Chances
by Darveymylove
Summary: Donna has a falling out with her new boyfriend, Thomas Kessler, a client of the firm. But when Harvey gets involved, he runs the risk of losing his law licence. All the while, Donna and Harvey must face their feelings in tense circumstances. Is this their last chance?
1. Part 1

**_Hi! The idea for this fic came from a theory(disclaimer: I have no idea if this will happen on the show it's just an idea) I posted of a possible scenario for season 8b, it's based on pictures and set locations posted by the cast. I'll write the theory below but don't read it if you don't want a spoilers for this Fic!!!_**

 ** _Theory:_**

 ** _Thomas does something to hurt/upset Donna, causing them to break up, Harvey finds out what happens and is upset. Thomas shows up at Harvey's place, and they fight, leading to Harvey getting into trouble with the Bar._**

 ** _Where will Donna and Harvey go from here..._**

 ** _Part 1:_**

Donna watches as her breath fogs the cab window, speckled with running droplets of dewy rain. Her eyes follow two beads of rain, streaking their way across the glass, as though racing, trying to match each other's pace, before finally meeting in the middle, merging into one. Her eyes fall closed as she rests her head on the back of the worn leather seats, cradling the parcel in her lap.

A small smile plays on her lips as she ponders its contents, excitement bubbling up inside her at the very thought of giving it to Thomas, anticipating the look on his face when he realizes what it is. There was no occasion for gift giving, it was mid-March, so definitely too late for a Christmas present, however, when she spotted the ornament in the antique's store, she couldn't resist buying it for him.

In the short time they'd been seeing each other, she hadn't really learned all that much about Thomas, his family or his past. The one story he had told her, however, was of the glass ornament his grandmother had, that he absolutely adored, unfortunately it had been lost with the passing of time, he searched for a replica, using all his connections in interior design, but to no avail.

It was such a rare piece, only a scarce few had been made and sold.

Donna sighed happily, as the car came to a slow stop outside his office building, thanking and paying the driver, she stepped out into the street, covering her hair with her arm to protect it from the light fall of rain, tucking the gift-wrapped package inside her coat as she ran quickly to the revolving door, and hopped into the first elevator, taking a moment to admire her reflection in the glass walls of the carriage, catching the sparkle of her earrings. The ones she bought with Harvey's card.

She gulps, erasing thoughts of him from her mind, not allowing her stream of consciousness to go there.

 _Great._

She had managed to go all of fifteen minutes without giving Harvey Specter a single thought, must be a new record.Having spent most of the cab ride wondering if he'd noticed that she left the firm early. It's hard to forget someone when everything around you reminds you of that very person.

Thomas' office was at the very top of the building, and he had almost the whole floor to himself, save for one other office, occupied by his business partner, Kieran Cline, who was rarely ever in New York, always travelling, running the business across the pond.

The metal doors slide open, revealing a straight corridor, at the bottom, two secretary's desks side by side, both empty. The men's offices faced each other running parallel, though both designed quite uniquely.

Kieran had gone for glass paneled walls, much like those at 'Zane Specter Litt Wheeler Williams', his office was open plan, bright, and undisturbed. He was absent as usual, along with his assistant. Thomas however, had favored mahogany walls in place of glass, he clearly had a preference for privacy. It amazed her how the décor of the alternate spaces reflected so much of each man's personality, but then again, they were interior designers.

His secretary, a young man named Reece, was also missing from his post, Donna pulled the brown paper bag containing the still warm pastry from her purse and placed it on his desk, leaving him a little note. She liked the kid, he reminded her of Mike, and she had an inkling that he was perhaps responsible for choosing the generous bouquets of flowers that were sent to her from Thomas once a week since they'd first begun their relationship.

Bursting with excitement, she approached the office door, giving a small wrap of her fist before opening the door, peeking inside.

He was standing, hunched over his desk, his back to the door, the palms of his hands rested on the wooden surface, he seemed to be reading something, dozens of sheets spread across the table top. He didn't seem to hear her knock, so she stepped inside, clearing her throat awkwardly, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at his face. His demeanor seemed off somehow.

"What is it Reece?" he grumbled, his gaze not moving from the documents on his desk, he sounded pissed off.

"Thomas?" Donna cooed, she smiled kindly as he raised his head to see her, he didn't return the gesture, instead, his brow furrowed, followed by a grimace. Not quite the reception she was expecting.

"Oh, Donna," he sighed, though his voice sounded indifferent, "now's not a good time." He returned his concentration to his work.

"Is everything alright?" Donna inquired, genuine concern in her voice, approaching her boyfriend, leaning to the side to study his face as she neared the edge of the mahogany desk.

He just sighed in reply, with a slight shake of his head to the side, "is there a reason you're here?" the tone of his voice was impatient, catching Donna off guard.

"Well-" she stuttered, gathering her thoughts, she held out the parcel to him, but when he didn't take it she placed it on the desk instead, "I got you something, and I couldn't wait until tonight to give to you so I thought – well I thought I'd surprise you-"

"Listen, Donna I really don't have time for this today-"

"No." She interrupted him, and finally he met her eyes, her own patience was wearing thin at this point, "No. That's not good enough, what the hell is the matter Thomas?" she took a step closer, trying to find an answer in his eyes.

He scoffed, "as if you don't know" he mumbled under his breath, smirking at her.

"Excuse me?"

"Why don't you ask your friend Harvey, he's the asshole that's been blocking my billion -dollar deal left, right and center!" his voice rose a tone, anger shining through now.

She allowed her eyes to fall, to the documents on the table, searching her mind for any details of the case that she could recall, as far as she knew, Harvey had nothing to do with any of Thomas' business, 'Kessler and Cline' are Louis' client.

"Thomas, you're being irrational, Harvey doesn't work on your cases, Louis does, I don't even think he knows anything about this deal-"

"Bullshit!" Thomas yelled, Donna jumped at the unexpected outburst, "Harvey Specter is always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. And it's just like you to defend him" he sneered, pointing his finger in her direction.

She took a slight step back, "Thomas, please, I'm just trying to help-"

She was cut off, when, out of nowhere, Thomas flung his arms across the desktop, scattering its contents across the marble floor, including the small parcel, which gave a sickening crack as the ornament smashed upon the collision.

She was frozen in shock, mouth agape as she took in what had just happened, her mind told her to ' _go, to get out, leave him, he's not worth it_ ' but she remained stuck to the spot, "I can't-"

"Enough!" he bellowed, taking a step towards her, on instinct she mirrored him, taking a step backwards, but he continued his approach as she backed herself, literally, into a corner.

She raised her chin, clenching her jaw in an attempt to feign strength, "Move out of my way please." Her voice was steady, calm.

"So now you want to leave?" he laughed, but remained in place, towering over her, she hadn't really noticed how much taller he was then her until this moment.

"I said-"

"It's time for you to pick a side here, me or him?" he demanded his voice quieter now, but almost more menacing.

She clenched her hands together, disguising the slight tremble of her limbs, "I'm not having this conversation with you-"

"Answer me!" the palm of his hand slammed against the wall, just alongside her head. She flinched despite herself, gasping at the movement.

If she answers truthfully, siding with Harvey, she's afraid what might happen next, but if she lies and chooses Thomas she's almost certain he won't believe her.

"I-" she stammers, but her heart skips a beat when she hears a commotion coming from outside, she glances towards the door, Thomas looking over his shoulder as, to spot Reece, a mess of spilled coffee on the floor at his feet, which he dropped in shock, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open, unsure what to make of the scene.

Thomas takes a step back, turning his back on her, she takes her chance and slips past, rushing towards the door in a fast-paced walk, biting her lip, she catches Reece's worried eyes as she passes him, averting her gaze immediately, making a beeline for the elevator, slipping through the doors just before they closed.

Once inside, she reaches for the metal railing, leaning back against the glass as she releases a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

 _What the hell had just happened?_

She had certainly never seen that side of him before. In the time that she'd known him, Thomas had always been sweet, kind, a true gentlemen. They hadn't had so much as a slight disagreement in the months of dating that had passed.

Her cheeks were flushed with a mixture of shock and anger, and perhaps even a hint of shame. Why did she allow herself to be cornered like that? She knew how to hold her own, she'd always prided herself on her strength, so why, when it mattered most, did she find herself completely unable to stand her ground?

Perhaps it came back to the shock, the unexpectedness of the situation, she had let her guard down back there, allowed herself to get too close to someone whom she barely knew, to trust blindly. She had forgotten her fear, after all that had come before, Stephen, Mark, even Harvey, after all they had put her through, she had still managed to forget her fear of getting hurt.

Maybe that was her mistake.

She nearly jumped at the sound of the sharp bell, indicating her arrival at the lobby. Donna fills her lungs, breathing deeply, she runs a hand through her hair and attempts to steady her shaking legs before the silver doors slide open.

She bustles past the groups of strangers waiting on the other side of the door, head bowed, avoiding eye contact at all costs, turning up the collar of her Ralph Lauren trench coat as she makes her way to the exit. The reception is crowded, mostly with people heading for the street, she glances at her watch as she falls in line with all the others making their way out, greeted by a down pour of heavy rain, the kind that falls in large cruel droplets, with the intention of leaving every soul who ventures outdoors, soaked to the skin and freezing.

It's approaching six o'clock, Donna observes the city life around her, holding a hand to her forehead, attempting toshelter her view from the rain. The traffic is already chaotic, made ten times worse by the grim weather, every cab in sight appears to be occupied, and the road is at a stand-still.

" _Shit._ " She hisses under her breath, there goes any chance she had at getting a cab. The plan had been to leave the office early, visit Thomas and give him the gift, then head home to get ready for their date – a date that now, most certainly would not be happening.

Sighing, she began to walk as the rain continued to assault her, seeping through the material of her coat and soaking her perfectly styled hair. Donna reached into her, now drenched, handbag, digging through the contents for her phone. The only option she could think of was to call Ray, hoping he might be nearby and willing to drive her home before collecting Harvey.

Her hand clasped around the iPhone, pulling it from the depths of her purse, she clicked the lock button.

Blank screen.

She tried again. Nothing.

"No!" she almost cried, desperation settling in as she came to terms with her predicament.

The firm was about a ten minute walk from here, much closer than her apartment, almost a half an hours walk away, at least.

She picked up the pace, walking briskly, long legs carrying her, though her feet froze in her dripping shoes, squelching with every step. She hoped against hope that by some miracle the firm would be empty upon her arrival, wanting nothing more than to hide away in the safety of her office with a drink, well, after the day she's had, she might just need to make it two.

XXX

Donna leaned heavily against the cold wall of the elevator at ZSLWW, a puddle of water at her feet, fast growing as rain water dripped from her clothes. It had taken longer than expected for her to make it back to the firm. And with every passing second out in the rain she had grown increasingly more cold, wet, angry and above all upset.

This was up there with one of the worst days of her life, her walk in the border-line stormy weather of New York had given her far too much time to think about all that had happened. Another relationship down the drain, another chance at happiness dashed, another man who could see through her 'friendship' with Harvey.

It was beginning to feel as though she might never escape this vicious cycle. Doomed to loving a man who will never admit his own feelings, yet somehow manages to prevent her from moving on at every turn.

The only consolation was that, this time, it hadn't been Harvey's fault. Well, at least not directly.

Yes, her loyalty to Harvey had fueled Thomas' reaction, but for the first time in a long time, Harvey had not interfered with her love life at all. In fact, they rarely spoke of it.

This was all on Thomas. She knew for a fact that Harvey had nothing to do with any of Kessler Cline Designs' cases. She had taken it upon herself to make sure of it once they had started dating. So there was absolutely no way in hell that Harvey had interfered with Thomas' deal.

But even if he had, that doesn't excuse the way he acted. Nothing could excuse his behavior today. They were finished. He's an ass, she got a lucky escape.

That doesn't mean it hurts any less.

The elevator arrives at the fiftieth floor with a loud ding, her feet heavy, she drags herself out of the carriage and towards her office. Thankfully, the office was quiet, seeing as it was now well past six. She keeps her eyes low, not wanting to see anyone, not willing to answer questions. She had managed to keep her composure the whole way here, but she had a sneaking suspicious it was going to falter at any given moment.

Stumbling into her office, she kicks off her heels, destroyed and damp. Her purse slips from her fingers, clattering to the ground, the contents spilling out onto the floor. When she reaches her desk, she grasps the edge, leaning her weight on the palms of her hands as she shivers, adjusting to the warmth of her office.

"Donna?"

The sound causes her head to snap up, meeting his gaze, he's standing in the doorway, coat and scarf draped over his arm as if he was just about to head home, he looks slightly confused, taking her in, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Out for a stroll in the rain I see?" his tone is playful, although he's genuinely curious as to why she looks as though a bucket of water had just been tipped over her head.

She gives no response, no witty comeback. She doesn't evenberate him for teasing her, instead she remains silent, shivering and shaking, her face pale and blank.

That's when the concern sets in.

"Donna," he changes his approach, taking a couple of steps towards her now, his brow furrowing, "is everything - ?"

But before he can finish, she drops her head, letting out a strangled breath, quiet cries erupting from her chest, her red hair, darkened by its soaked state, curtains her faces. Before he knows what he's doing, his arms are enveloping her, pulling her close to his chest, feeling just how cold she is when her forehead rests against the skin of his neck, tucked under her chin, noticing how much smaller she seems without the added height of her heels.

He rubs her back gently, shushing as he waits for her to calm down, though with every moment that goes by, his concern is growing, wondering what could be the matter, why is she so upset? Is she hurt? Did something happen?

For a moment, he allows himself to revel in how natural this feels, how perfectly she fits in his embrace, but he quickly shakes the thought from his head. Returning his attention to the situation at hand.

He feels her pulling away from his grip, and his arms fall but land loosely on her waist instead, "I'm sorry-" she croaks, clearing her throat and wiping her eyes, "I-I need to get home, sorry-" she tries to move back, he can sense she's embarrassed, but there's no way she's leaving here without at least giving him an explanation.

"Hey," his hand reaches for her elbow, gently coaxing her back to him, she resists, but only slightly, pausing at his touch, "are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

She chances a glance back at him, seeing the worry written in the creases of his forehead, "I'm okay, Harvey." She tries, even forcing a small smile, but it doesn't fool him, he's not convinced and she knows it, "look- I just had a crappy day and on top of it all I just walked at least twenty blocks in the pouring rain… all I want to do is go home."

His body relaxes slightly, and she can see she's satisfied him to some extent, but then he tilts his head to the side, his eyes questioning, "I know you well enough by now, to know that's not the full story-"

Donna opens her mouth to protest but he hold up a finger to silence her, telling her he's not finished, "but, I'm not going to fight you on it, at least not right now, if we don't get you warmed up soon, you might just catch pneumonia." He gestures to her sopping wet attire, "Ray's outside, you're coming home with me, my place is much closer than yours,and that's not a request." He smirks, helping her remove her ruined trench coat and slipping his own wooly coat over her shoulders instead.

"When did you get so wise?" she mumbles, pulling the warm, dry material around her body as she shivers again.

"I've learned from the best."

XXX

Donna closes her eyes, nuzzling herself into the throw rug around her shoulders, shuffling on the leather sofa so that she's closer to the blazing fire place. Harvey had insisted she use his shower and get warmed up, even lending her an old, worn-out Harvard sweater and a pair of baggy grey sweatpants in place of her drenched clothes. He had even mentioned something about sending them to the dry cleaners for her, mumbling something about replacing her deceased Jimmy Cho's as well.

"So…" his voice travels from the kitchen, as he makes his way towards her, two mugs of tea in tow. He sits down next to her, close, but just far enough away for the distance to mean something. He doesn't finish his sentence, letting the word hang in the air as he places their drinks on the coffee table. She knows he's waiting for her to talk, hoping she'll open up on her own, but she remains silent, not quite sure what to tell him, not quite sure she wants to tell him anything at all.

He clears his throat, "I ordered us some food…" he attempts to prompt a conversation again, "…shitty Thai, as usual." He smirks, sure the dig will stimulate a response, but still, she stays quiet.

He's getting frustrated now, she can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, his concern quickly morphing into annoyance. She stiffens, readying herself for a row, she doesn't want to fight with him, but it's better than the alternative. Convincing herself she'll go to any lengths to avoid telling him what happened.

She's not sure why exactly. Maybe it's the fear that he'll lose it, like he'd done before, with Stephen, go after Thomas, get himself into trouble with the Partners. Perhaps she's afraid to admit that another one of her relationships has failed, feeling she needs to prove to him, somehow, that she can be happy without him. Maybe it's simply the idea that he might see her as weak, something that needs to be protected, that somehow this whole situation, though not her fault, makes her feel less like herself, less like his equal.

She shakes the thought from her mind. That's the last thing she's going to do. Thomas Kessler would not get the better of her. One minor moment of weakness doesn't define your own strength.

"Thomas and I-" she begins in a small voice, not sure how to finish that sentence, they didn't technically break up, "we had a fight… it's over." She reaches for the mug closest to her, cradling in her hands and letting the warmth spread from her finger tips, readying herself for more questions.

"This happened today?" he asks, not looking at her, his eyes trained on the city lights, he asks with a tone of indifference, but she knows he cares.

"Yes… I went to see him, we were meant to have a date tonight, but we had fight, and by the time I was leaving his office, I couldn't find a cab, so I walked back to the firm." She finishes confidently, hoping the answer satisfies him.

He nods, still not meeting her gaze. For a few moment's they sit in utter silence, and with every passing second she begins to believe that she's out of the woods. She didn't lie, she just didn't tell the whole story, everything will be okay, just as long as he doesn't ask-

"Why?"

She stiffens at the word, his eyes finally meeting hers, in a stare that says he knows she's hiding something.

"Excuse me?" she acts surprised.

"Why were you fighting?" he asks again.

Donna swallows, "it's not important."

"Donna, don't even try-"

"Maybe I don't want to talk about it!" she sits up suddenly, and her tea splashes over the edge of the mug, stinging her hand, "Shit-" she mumbles, fumbling as she places the cup down.

"Here," he moves closer to her, grabbing some tissues from the coffee table, he wraps her hand in the tissue paper, drying it, "does it hurt?"

The feeling of his hands wrapped around hers is numbing all other sensations, "No, I'm okay now."

He knows he should let go, but for some reason, he can't bring himself to. He runs his thumb over her skin, and to his surprise, she brings her other hand up, placing it over both of his, the feeling sending sparks running through his veins.

"Sorry." He mumbles, and their eyes meet again as she looks up at him through her lashes, "I shouldn't have pushed you, it's none of my business… I just don't like seeing you upset-"

"It was you." Donna breathes, barely above a whisper.

"What?" he replies, although he's thinks he already has an idea of what she means.

"We were fighting about you…" she pauses, very much aware that they're still holding hands, it feels so natural, "I went to see him to give him a gift, when I got there, his floor was empty, apart from the two of us. He was stressed about something, he was standoffish and it just seemed out of character… so, I pressed him on it – I know I shouldn't have but I was worried… but then he just lost it, started accusing you of sabotaging his deal, and when I defended you – he accused me of taking your side. It all just escalated so quickly, the next thing I knew, he'd backed be into a corner and –"

"I swear to God if he –"

"No. No, he was just yelling at me, telling me to pick a side, I knew that no matter what I said he wouldn't believe, but before I could even try, his assistant came back, Reece, and Thomas backed off, and I left, quickly."

Donna braces herself. She expects an explosion, a true Harvey Specter reaction, always quick to fly off the handle in the heat of the moment. But to her surprise, he stays quiet, though she feels his grip tighten on her hands. The silence almost makes her uneasy, until finally it's broken.

"I'm sorry," he utters, so small she's not even sure she heard him, "this keeps happening to you, and it's my fault –"

"What the hell are you talking about?" she frowns.

"I keep taking away your chances to be happy. Don't tell me you don't see the pattern here?" he shakes his head.

"Harvey." She moves closer to him again, eyes locked determinedly on his, "none of this is your fault. Nothing excuses Thomas' behavior, that's on him. Not you, or me. Do you hear me?"

He nods slowly, smirking, "I'm still gonna kill the guy the next time I see him."

"No, you do that, and I'll fire your ass before the partners get the chance to." She laughs quietly.

"Okay, boss." He winks.

"As for my chances at happiness…" she pauses, the way he looks at her leaving her momentarily stunned, their close proximity causing a flush to creep into her cheeks, "maybe my chance at happiness has been right under my nose this whole time."

His eyes seem to glow at her suggestion, and she's certain he's leaning forward, finding herself giving in to the pull, eyes almost fluttering closed when-

bang, bang

They jump apart, both startled by the loud knocking on the door. It takes a second before the reality of what almost happened hits, Donna glances away quickly, removing her hands from his grip. He clenches his jaw, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa.

bang, bang

"Oh, em," he stands quickly, fiddling with his cufflinks, "that'll be the food."

"Ok, I'm em- I'm just going to check my phone, I'll be right back." She stands quickly, rounding the sofa as she hurries back into Harvey's bedroom where she plugged her phone in earlier, her hands still shaking slightly she reaches for the iPhone, her eyes widening when the screen lights up.

Fifteen missed calls, all of them from Thomas, and ten voicemessages to go along with them,

"Shit."

Harvey rushes off to answer the door, both feeling completely flustered, equally disappointed and relieved that their moment had been interrupted.

You can never go back.

Those fateful words echoing in both their minds as they come down from the high of what almost was.

Harvey makes his way to the front door, feeling his pockets for his wallet as his other hand lands on the handle, he doesn't look up as he opens the door, "Hi, sorry for the wait," Harvey mumbles fishing out his wallet, "How much do I owe you-"

He stops, shocked, face to face with the very last person he ever expected to see standing at his front door.

"Kessler?"

XXX

 **Thanks for reading!! There is more to come so please stay tuned for part 2! And leave a review to let me know your thoughts.**

 **Side note: I understand that not everyone will like this portrayal of Thomas, however to fit this particular plot/theory I had no choice but to make him the bad guy.**


	2. Part 2

**Part 2:**

"Harvey Specter." He replied, his tone seemed neutral, as if it were perfectly normal for Thomas to be standing in his doorway at this time of night – or at all for that matter.

"I've got a bone to pick with you." Thomas continued, and before Harvey knew it he was seeing himself into the apartment, his shoulder colliding with Harvey's as he passed.

Harvey felt his blood begin to boil, but for Donna's sake, he calmed himself, following the intruder into his living room, hell-bent on showing him out before Donna would even realize he's here. The thought of him anywhere near the redhead causing his whole body to stiffen.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Harvey demanded, rounding Kessler, standing in his path and stopping him from advancing any further, "If you know what's good for you, you'll leave now before I make." He kept his voice low, hoping Donna wouldn't hear.

Thomas scoffed, "I'd like to see you try." standing up straight, he loomed a couple of inches taller, but Harvey wasn't intimidated.

"I'm not sure, exactly what your problem is with me," Harvey began, pretending to be oblivious, "but whatever it is, now is not the time or the place to sort it out.""Bullshit, you know exactly why I'm here!" Kessler's voice rose, Harvey had a feeling he was about to witness the temper that Donna had earlier described to him, "You tanked my deal! You lost my company millions – you – " he paused, his eyes widening, "Donna?"

Harvey turned to see Donna standing in the archway of his bedroom, she looked, shocked, confused, and if he wasn't mistaken, Harvey was almost certain he caught a glimmer of fear behind her eyes.

"Thomas?" she whispered, as she moved cautiously forward into the room, "What the hell are you doing here?" she could feel her heart beat accelerating in her chest, she wasn't afraid of him, no, she was afraid of having him and Harvey in the same room, that could only lead to disaster.

"I could ask you the same question." He replied, his tone was venomous, as he strode past Harvey approaching Donna with purpose.

"Thomas," she began, holding a hand up, "you need to leave."

"I was right," he laughed, and he continued nearing her, Harvey following closely behind.

"Back off Kessler." Harvey grumbled.

"Harvey stay out of this." Donna warned.

"Like hell I will!" he replied, furious.

Donna glanced at him, shooting him a pleading look, he raised his hands taking a couple of paces back but still standing close enough to intervene at any second.

"I knew there was something between you two," Thomas' voice was slowly on the rise again, "and now I've been proved right. I should have known you'd be here."

"It's not like that Thomas," she wouldn't let him belittle her, "and you have no right to accuse me of anything, after the way you treated me today."

He seemed to ignore her remark, taking a step closer, "I should have seen it from the start. A secretary? promoted to COO out of the blue? I should have suspected something sooner."

That struck a nerve, Donna cheeks flushed with rage as she closed the space between her and Thomas, "How dare you,"she breathed, pointing at him accusingly, "how dare you speak to me like that!" she yelled, tears rising in her eyes.

"Kessler, I think you should go." Harvey interrupted, but his remark fell on deaf ears.

"You're nothing," Thomas spat, and before she could react he took hold of her wrist, gripping it tightly, "but a slut."

The words had barely resonated in her ears when suddenly, Harvey was between, them, pushing Thomas back with force, shouting something that didn't register with her ears. Donna breathed deeply, steadying herself, she closed her eyes for a moment, his words had cut deep, she was hurt but more than anything, she was furious. Her ears ringing with pure rage.

Suddenly, a loud shattering brings her tumbling back to the present moment, Thomas having knocked Harvey backwards, stumbling as he bumps into the coffee table sending the now, ice cold mugs of tea flying to the floor, shattering across the room, but he manages to stay on his feet, ducking as Thomas throws another punch. Harvey retaliates, catching the taller man with a hook to the chin, followed by another to the stomach.

Donna feels panic brewing in her chest, and without thinking, she runs towards the pair, "Stop!" she shouts, but she may as well have been talking to a brick wall, "Harvey – Thomas, stop!"

She reaches Thomas first, desperate to tear them apart, fearing the worst should the fight continue to escalate. She grabs Thomas' shoulder, trying to pull them apart but immediately regrets the move. He shoves her backwards, his elbow connecting with her diaphragm, pushing the air from her lungs, she tumbles back, slipping on the tea soaked floor, her hands go out to break the fall, landing face down with a cry. Every nerve in her body feels like it's buzzing, her ears buzz and vision dotted, she takes heavy breaths and the room seems to spin, the blow having winded her almost completely. She feels her hands stinging, shards of glass from the mugs piercing the skin of her palms.

She rolls onto her side, resting on her elbow, when suddenly, Thomas is beside her, kneeling next to her, "Donna, I'm – are you alright-" he reaches out to her but she flinches, shock still rolling over her in waves.

She watches as Harvey grabs Thomas by the collar, pulling him away from her, "Get out," he growls, pushing him in the direction of the door, "I said, Go!" he bellows, and Donna hears a clatter of footsteps behind her, followed by the echo of a slamming door.

Harvey kneels next her now, he looks furious, but concerned, he places a hand on her shoulder, "are you hurt?" he asks gently, and she nods showing him her hands, unable to stop them from trembling.

He swallows, placing another hand on her waist, "can you stand, I'll help?" she nods again, climbing to her feet, leaning against him for support, without warning, he sweeps her up into his arms, bridal style.

"Harvey, I can walk, put me down-"

"There's glass everywhere, and you're in your bare feet." He replies, carrying her out of the living room trying his best not to slip on the soaking floor, walking towards his bedroom, noticing her shaking, he places her carefully at the bottom of the bed, his eyes scanning over her, his head spinning with a strange mixture of heartache and rage.

He takes her hands in his, almost exactly like earlier, turning the palms to the ceiling, examining the grazes, one or two openings starting bleed. She doesn't look at him, or at her own hands, keeping her head bowed, eyes cast to the side, staring intently at the floor.

"I think I have a first aid box in the kitchen, I'll be back in a second." He mumbles, dropping her hands and turning.

The moment he disappears from sight, Donna hoists herself off the bed, wincing at the slight pain in her torso. With effort, she carries herself to the bathroom, shutting and bolting the door behind her, leaning her weight against the door panel, resting her forehead on the cool opaque glass, the kind that allows only for you to see the silhouette of the person on the other side.

Her hand squeezes the handle involuntarily, face scrunched and eyes squinted shut. She wills herself not to break, her head spinning with a rush of too many emotions to cater for, not sure which is worst; hurt, heartbreak, anger, embarrassment and a lingering sense of fear that won't seem to vanish. No matter how much she reasons with it.

She finds herself battling with the urge to leave, run home before he can stop her, hide, not only from what had just happened, but what had almost happened, less than an hour ago on the couch. How close they came to crossing that line.

Or maybe she should stay, berate Harvey for getting involved, for coming between them and causing the fight. Although deep down she's glad he stepped in, none of this is his fault, after all.

But what she really wants, more than, anything, is the courage to face him now, with no inhibitions, to let him be there for her now when she needs him, to stay with him, not just tonight but always.

Fear.

There it is again, no matter where she turns, that sense of dread still rises in her throat, telling her she can't, she shouldn't.

She can't help the tears that begin to fall, quickly turning to heavy sobs, as she loses herself, succumbing to the urge to let go that's been nagging her for weeks now, like a weight on her back.

"Donna?"

Her eyes open, and through the tears in her eyes, she makes out the shadow of Harvey on the other side of the door. She doesn't answer, covering her mouth to disguise a gasp as another sob slips from her mouth.

"Donna," he tries the handle, and she lets go, stepping back from the door, as he wriggles it, quickly realizing its locked, "please come out." He prods, his voice firm but pleading.

Her eyes widen as she notices the streaks of blood let behind on the door, the handle completely stained, she glances at her hand, spider webs of red trickling from some of the deeper cuts.

The hand covering her mouth drops as she turns to look in the mirror, her face now tinted with scarlet as well.

"Donna," He tries again, and she turns again, his shadow is closer to the door now, as if he were leaning against the other side, one palm press against the glass, "I need you to open the door." He sounds worried, it pains her.

She finds herself drawn back towards the barrier between them, breathing still ragged, trying to keep the cries at bay, "I- I can't-" she stutters, stopping in front of the panel, if the door wasn't there, they would be standing face to face now.

"Yes, you can," he encourages gently, she wants to, but the fear is still there, lurking in the back of her mind, but then he speaks again, "You don't have to be scared."

It's as if he's read her mind, she falters, placing one hand on the cool metal of the handle, the other hand resting in line with his on the other side, but she doesn't open it. Not yet.

They both remain silent, not sure how much time slips past before it's broken.

"Please Donna, I'm sorry," his voice shakes in a way she's only heard a scarce few times before, he must be crying, it breaks her heart, "I'm here for you, and I'm not going anywhere."

She breaks, that does it, the words she's wanted to hear more than anything, more than 'I love you', this means so much more to her.

She turns the key, and as soon as he hears the click he swings the door open before she has the chance, surprised he doesn't pull it from his hinges.

This time, she makes the first move, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder, clinging tightly, as though for dear life. He's shocked at first, not having been sure what state he would find her in on the other side of the door, but it only takes a moment for him to react, placing his hands on her back and drawing her nearer, almost exactly the way they had stood only hours ago in her office, and once again her finds himself hoping it will never end.

In fact, all he wants to do is take this further, to really be there for her, to pick up where they left off before that knock on the door, they had been so close, teetering on the edge of something they had both waited a life time for. So much can change in a matter of minutes, if tonight had taught him anything it's that. He didn't want to wait anymore, he's not afraid of diving in, it finally resonates with him, that if he stands aside for much longer, he could lose her, at any moment of any day, any twist of fate could take her away from him. And that, above all is his ultimate fear. He wants her, all of her, and he wants to start right now.

But he knows he can't.

He couldn't do that to her, not right now, at this moment, she needs him, but not in that way. She needs a different kind of intimacy, the kind he knows she's craved from him in the years gone by, the kind he's always denied her.

 _I don't have time to comfort you._

 _Well I need you to make time!_

Always so willing to protect her, but never around when it's all over, in the aftermath, when she needs him most. But this time will be different.

He pushes her away gently, not fully leaving each other's embrace, just enough to see her face, "I'm sorry," he begins, and he can see the fear in her eyes, worried he's about to distance himself from her again, leave her, "I shouldn't have let him, I should have thrown him out sooner, I shouldn't have started a fight, just – the way he spoke to you-"

"Harvey stop." She grips his arm, urging him to listen, "I don't blame you for what you did, if you hadn't have stepped in, I would have beat the shit out of him myself." She smiles, but he's not fooled, her eyes give her away.

"Maybe I should have let you." He smirks.

"Maybe you should have."

Her smile fades as she glances back at her hands, still bleeding slowly, he sobers up, remembering why he's here, "how bad does it hurt?" he places a hand on her shoulder, guiding her back to the edge of the bed, and reaching for the discarded first aid box.

"Not that bad," she mumbles, but he glares at her knowingly, "Ok, it hurts like a bitch. Happy?"

He shakes his head, tearing open some of the anti-bacterial wipes, "This might sting." He wipes her palms, cleaning the red stained skin, taking extra care round the small cuts, but she still winces, "Sorry." He grimaces.

Once clean, he examines the grazes carefully, making sure no glass is stuck under her skin, satisfied, he wraps them each gently in soft white bandages, securing them in place for her.

"Thank you."

He looks up at her sigh, their faces almost as close as they were earlier, close enough to feel her breath teasing his lips, pupils dark as he spots the way her eyes flick down to his lips and back again. He wants nothing more than to kiss her. But the voice in his head screams-

Not yet.

"Do you," he swallows, gathering his thoughts, "Do you want to talk about anything?"

She sits back slight, straightening up as their gaze breaks, "Not really," she shrugs, her fingers fiddle with the hem of the Harvard sweater she's wearing, examining it as though it were the most interesting thing in the world, "it was an accident, there's nothing more to it."

"That's not the only thing I was talking about," The way Thomas spoke to her has been on replay in his mind, his blood boiling every time he imagines the look on her face as he had spoken to her, "It's not true."

Donna's eyes snap back to him, her pale face creased in a frown, "What's not true?"

He finds himself reaching for her hand, taking it in his delicately, "The things he said to you, it was all bullshit, and if he can't see that, then he doesn't really know you, you're too good for him."

She bites her lip, Harvey's words turning in her mind, touching her.

He can see the affect it's had, "Do you hear me? It's not true."

"I know." She breathes, smiling, although her eyes glisten in the dim light of the night sky.

"I know you know," he laughs, "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't hear it from me every once in a while."

"What would I do without you Specter?"

"I don't know… what would I do without you, Paulsen?" he mimics with a wink.

"Well," She sighs, "Here's hoping we never find out."

"Knock on wood."

"I've got it covered!" She raises a fist to his head, lightly knocking on his crown, with a cheeky smile."Very funny." He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

"I try." She replies, shrugging, "Come on," she says, standing titling her head as she beckons for him to follow, "there's a mess in the kitchen and it's not going to clean itself."

"I can sort that out myself, you should just relax-" he argues, knowingly in vain.

"I want to help, and besides, I could use the distraction."

He grimaces sympathetically, nodding as he stands to follow her.

They make their way into the living area, Harvey rummages around in the cupboard, handing a broom to Donna as he grabs the mop, they work mostly in silence, taking extra care not to step on anymore broken glass. Harvey never thought he'd find himself enjoying something as trivial as household chores, but doing it with her feels so domestic, almost peaceful, they both relish in it, smiling when they catch each other's eye.

They're almost finished when the silence is broken by sudden knocking at the door, Donna startles, the broom slipping from her fingers, Harvey reaches out a hand and catches the handle before it hits the floor. He notices her swallow, as he hands it back to her, she takes it with a trembling hand.

"Sorry, I just got a fright."

"I know, it's alright," he leans the mop against the counter, "It's probably the take out."

Donna nods, but he can see the anxiety written all over her demeanor.

"He won't come back." Harvey soothes, "I'm going to answer the door, just wait here, I'll be back with a feast of shitty Thai food faster than you can say Pad Krapow Moo Saap."

She smiles slightly, nodding again, "Ok."

The rest of the evening is spent gorging on take out, and working their way through a fresh bottle of scotch, lounging on the couch as they listen to their favorites from Harvey's record shelf, each record, and each track sparking the regression of a different memory, taking them on a journey back through the years they'd spent, _together, but apart_.

He swirls the last drop of Macallan around in the crystal tumbler, knocking it back, his face twisting as the amber liquid scorches his throat, leaving behind a soothing buzz in the aftermath. Reaching for the bottle, the offer for another on the tip of tongue when he glances at Donna, curled up on the far corner of the sofa, her head fallen to the side, eyes closed, lips parted and a light rosy tint to her cheeks. She looks so peaceful, so still, and above all so gorgeous.

Harvey rises from his perch, making his way over to the redhead all the while trying to decide the best way to lift her without disturbing her. There was no way in hell she'd be sleeping on the couch, not after the day she'd had.

He scoops an arm under her bend of her knee, the other sliding around to support her back, her falls against his shoulder, hair strewn across her face. By the time he's made it to the bedroom she's beginning to stir, lowering, her onto what he, for some inexplicable reason, considered to be her side of the bed, and pulling the duvet up under her chin.

She mumbles something incoherent, eyes fluttering slightly, he's just about to leave when he feels, her hand link with his.

"Stay." She whispers.

He hesitates, unsure what she means, not sure where this is headed, "Donna I-"

"I don't want to be alone," she sighs, her eyes tired and pleading, "Please Harvey."

"Okay." He smiles softly, rounding the bed and slipping in beside her.

A few moments slip past, before her hand slips in to his barely holding on, as if giving him the chance to move away. But he doesn't, instead he links his fingers in hers, squeezing gently, telling her all she needs to know.

And they stay like that, until the early morning rises.

When he wakes, she's gone. The bed beside him cold, his hand feels empty. He throws the covers back, shuffling into the kitchen, rubbing his face. He presses a couple of buttons on the coffee machine, wiping the sleep from his eyes. It takes a couple of seconds before he notices the little post it note on the fridge.

 ** _Had to go home for fresh clothes, I'll see you at work._**

 ** _\- Donna x_**

He smiles at the piece of paper, when mark in particular catching his eye. "X"

Maybe it means nothing, but nonetheless, it sends butterflies to his stomach.

XXX

It's after five the next evening when she finally swans into his office. Both their days had been so packed with work that they had only seen each other in passing. She glides into the room, smiling, velvet deep blue dress shimmering in the low lights of the firm, igniting the gold in her hair. The bandages on her hands had been removed, replaced with more subtle, skin colored covers, it was apparent that she wanted to hide it, he even over heard her that morning, telling Samantha that she tripped and fell outside her apartment the night before. He doesn't judge her for lying, but he wishes she wasn't so embarrassed.

"Hey stranger." she greets, standing across from his desk, "Still swamped with paperwork?"

"I'm getting there," he grimaces, although he knows all hopes of him finishing any more work evaporated the second she walked in, "actually, I think I'm just about done." He watches her face closely, wondering if she's going to address last night, or just brush over it.

"I'm sorry I left so early this morning… I had to get home and get ready for work-" she pauses but he only nods, leaving space for her to continue, "and thank you, for last night."

"You don't have to say thank you Donna," he stands, coming to stand beside her at the other side of the desk, "as long as you're okay?"

"Yes," she nods, tracing her thumb over the outline of the plasters on her palms, "sort of – it's a lot, but I'll get past it, I'd just prefer that nobody found out-"

"Don't worry about that," he assures her, then decides to change the subject, sensing she's not in the mood to discuss it, "I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" her voice is incredulous.

"You say that like I never give you anything-"

"Except your credit card details." She quips, beaming smugly.

"Alright Paulsen, point taken." He purses his lips in fake annoyance.

"So… what is it?" she asks, admittedly intrigued at this mysterious surprise.

"Patience, it's on its way here." He winks, and she pouts, "Do you want a drink-"

Movement in the corridor catches his eye, his eyes narrowing, face flushing with fury before he can attempt to disguise his reaction. Donna frowns at him, confused by the sudden change of mood, "What is it-?"

She stops dead as she turns to see the cause of his annoyance, passing by the office, her eyes meet Thomas' as he struts by, she feels a sudden chill strike her spine at the look on his face, and her breath hitches, seconds later he's out of sight, but she remains frozen, shocked.

"What's he doing here?" she whispers.

"He must have a meeting with Louis-" he notices how pale her face as suddenly become, "Donna, don't worry about it, he won't come near us if he knows what's good for him, besides, if he ever touches you again I'll-"

"Don't!" she yells, he should have seen this coming, they didn't deal with any of this properly last night, "It's not about what he did, it's about what he said-" she chokes.

"I know, but I already told you, it's not true-"

"That doesn't make it hurt any less!" There are tear tracks running down the length of her cheeks now, and he can't help but feel he put them there.

A knock on the glass door causes them both to startle, Donna turns to see the last two people she ever expected to see standing in front of her.

"Surprise!" Mike and Rachel shout, beaming, although their smiles quickly fade as they take in the look on the older pair's faces.

"What did we just walk in on?" Mike asks, eyes darting from Donna's teary face, to Harvey's frown.

"Is everything okay Donna," Rachel inquires, concerned, she approaches her friend, taking her hands and noticing the bandages, "what-?"

Harvey interrupts, gruffly, "Everything's fine-"

"No," Donna interjects, glaring at him, "no it's not fine."

Mike moves towards the group, opening his mouth as if about to ask more questions when –

"Harvey, I thought I told you to stay the hell away from my clients!" Louis storms into the room voice booming.

"Nice to see nothing's changed around here…" Mike mumbles.

"Louis, I can explain-" Harvey tries.

"You better have a damn good explanation as to why Thomas Kessler was just in my office claiming you assaulted him!"

"What?" Donna gasps, "I can't believe him-"

"Does anyone want to explain what exactly is going on here" Rachel yells, looking at Donna and Harvey, her eyes wide with confusion.

"You two better start explaining," Louis sits down in one of the desks chairs loosening his tie, "because Thomas Kessler just made a formal complaint to the New York Bar."

Xxx

 **I'm absolutely shocked and flattered at the amazing response this fic has recieved over the last few days, I can't thank you all enough for your support.**

 **Sorry not sorry for my tendency to leave you on a cliffhanger.. what can I say? I love the drama :)**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter! There's at least 1 or possibly 2 more to come so stay tuned!**

 **And please keep letting me know what you think with a review 3**


	3. Part 3

_Part 3_ :

Donna and Harvey's eyes meet in a painful gaze, each waiting for the other to say something.

Donna, searching Harvey's thoughts for a way out of this, for the strength to open up.

Harvey silently pleading with Donna to let him tell their friends, knowing how much she didn't want anyone to find out what had happened.

But now, they didn't really have a choice, the truth would have to come out, whether it be now or later. They've been at this firm long enough to know there are no secrets between this family.

She knows it, deep down inside she knows that sharing what happened is the only way to move forward, the only way to escape this mess, but she can't bring herself to do it. Donna nods her head to Harvey signaling her permission, "I can't – I don't want to do this right now-" she stumbles backwards, pulling her hands from Rachel's light grip, "I'm sorry-"

And just like that, she's gone. Turning on her heel and scurrying out of the office without a second glance, disappearing into the corridor.

Harvey moves to follow her, concerned, guilt creeping up into his chest, suffocating him. He feels Rachel's hand on his shoulder, pulling him back, "I'll go." She gives Harvey a look that warns him not to argue, and before he can even try, Rachel leaves, hurrying after her friend.

"Okay, now even _I'm_ starting to get worried…" Mike rests back against the edge of the desk, his gaze following his wife and the redhead.

Harvey sighs, every muscle in his body tense, he reaches for the half empty tumbler of scotch, knocking it back as he relaxes back into his desk chair, "What did Thomas say exactly?" Harvey grumbles, rubbing his temple with his forefinger and thumb.

"Not much," Louis begins, "he accused me of not handling his case properly and allowing you to meddle with it – which I know for a fact isn't true – then he said when he confronted you about it that you just lost it, started hitting him-"

Harvey scoffs, "That lying son of a bitch."

"So you didn't attack him?" Louis questions, growing impatient, "you're telling me he painted those bruises on his face?"

"Yes – I did hit him, but he's only telling you half of the damn story!" he growls.

"Then please!" Louis exclaims, his face flushed red, "enlighten us!"

"What happened Harvey?" Mike prods, although he already has an inkling.

"It started yesterday afternoon…"

XXX

"Donna," Rachel calls after the fleeing redhead, even in heels she's quick as lightening, "Donna, stop!" she reaches out to her, grabbing her shoulder and stopping her in her tracks.

Rachel catches sight of her friend's face, pale, drained, panicked. Biting down on her bottom lip with vigor, although it doesn't hide the tremble of her chin, "Oh sweetie." Rachel soothes, rubbing her hand up and down on Donna's back, her dark brown eyes full to the bring with sympathy.

"Why does this keep happening to me Rach-?" she croaks, as Rachel leads her from the corridor into the executive kitchen, ushering her into a chair and sitting down across from her.

"Why does what keep happening Don?"

"I just want to be happy, I keep trying to find someone or something to give me purpose, a promotion, a case, a man. But every time it just backfires and I end up right back where I started." She sniffles.

"Tell me what happened Donna, please." Rachel coos.

She takes a steadying breath, "I told you about Thomas over the phone, we had been seeing each other for a while," Rachel nods, urging her to continue.

Donna goes on to explain the ordeal at Thomas' office, how he had accused her out of the blue, cornered her and forced her to pick a side. She pauses, letting out a deep sigh, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her chest.

"Donna that's terrible," the brunette comforts, "you must have got a terrible shock…but I'm still not quite sure where Harvey fits into all of this…"

"Well… I ran into him when I arrived back at the firm," she continues, "he was worried and offered to take me home with him – well insisted actually…"

"So, I took Donna back to my place to get cleaned and warmed up," Harvey explains, having described what Donna had told him about the altercation in Kessler and Cline offices to the two men, Louis having vowed that if Thomas Kessler hadn't already fired them, he'd have dropped their asses there and then, "Next thing I knew, Kessler was at my door, forcing his way in, demanding to know why I had derailed his deal – he didn't realize Donna was there at first, but when he did, things went from bad to worse."

"How do you mean?" Mike asked, sitting forward.

"His attitude flipped when he saw her, with me – at first – he was rude but still quite calm and reserved, but once he saw Donna, there was a complete shift, he was far more aggressive, spiteful even," he hesitated, the memory of how Thomas treated her igniting fury in his stomach once again, "It turned personal. He was less concerned with me and more concerned with Donna, he started attacking her character, basically saying that-" he swallows, "that she only got her promotion by sleeping her way there – he was a regular Andrew Malik – that's when I stepped, it was purely defensive, not offensive – so I don't understand why he thinks he can get away with accusing me of anything."

"So how did it end?" Mike inquires, sensing his friend may be leaving something out, "did you just throw him out or - ?"

"Yes – well, Donna stepped in first…"

"I was worried," Donna admits, "frightened that one of them would seriously hurt the other, I didn't want Harvey to get in any trouble, so I tried to pull them apart, but Thomas pushed me. He elbowed me in the stomach and I fell, I cut my hands on the broken glass…" she gestures to the bandages that Rachel had questioned earlier, "At least it stopped them…Thomas came over to me, it was like he was trying to apologize but at the same time he didn't really seem sorry. Harvey threw him out before he really had the chance anyway." She wiped at a stray tear.

"Oh my God," Rachel leaned back in her chair, processing the story, "I don't understand how this guy thinks he can get away with accusing Harvey of anything…"

"My guess is that he didn't think it through," Donna mumbles, having witnessed his impulsive nature in the past forty-eight hours, "He probably reported it when he was angry, not thinking about the fact that, he might get in trouble himself."

"Well, you don't have to worry," Rachel reassures her, "there's no chance in hell of the Bar accepting his complaint once they're made aware of the circumstances."

"I hope so." She replies, "I'm sorry Rachel, I know you were probably hoping to do something tonight but I just really need to go home."

Rachel smiles, "I understand Donna, I'll come with you."

"You don't have to Rach-"

"I want to." She squeezes her hand, earning a smile from her friend.

"Thank you." She whispers, "I'm so glad you're here."

"So I kicked him out." Harvey finishes his rendition of the story, heaving a sigh of relief, as he awaits the other's reactions.

"I don't blame you Harvey-" Louis fumes, his chubby face completely flushed with fury, "I would have killed the bastard myself… how dare he touch her-"

"I wanted to.." Harvey grumbles, he had imagined beating the piece of shit into a pulp at least twenty times that day, "if Donna hadn't have come between us, I don't know if I would have been able to stop myself."

"Maybe it's for the best that she did then," Mike remarks, always the voice of reason, although his face is solemn, "there's no way the bar takes this case, I can't believe he even-"

"He has connections," Louis explains, "He's got a couple of friends on the panel, I bet they'll make sure it goes through."

"You've gotta be kidding me?" Harvey seethes, with every passing second his hatred for Thomas Kessler seems to multiply, "That bastard showed up on my doorstep, verbally attacked both me and Donna, how the hell does that stand up in any court room?"

"It'll be a classic case of 'he said, she said.'" Mike huffs, "you three were the only people in the room where it happened, it's your word against his."

Harvey's about to argue when Rachel returns, clearing her throat, "I'm going to take Donna home and stay the night with her."

Mike nods, "Okay, I'll see you in the morning." He rises to give his wife a kiss goodnight.

"Where is she?" Harvey asks, standing as well, "I want to see her before she goes home for the weekend… is she alright?"

"She's fine," Rachel assures, "but I think it's best you just leave it alone for the moment Harvey, now's not the time."

His shoulders slump in defeat, but he nods his agreement, "we should all go home, clear our heads, we can discuss this on Monday."

 _Monday_ :

Donna made her way into the elevator on Monday morning, she was earlier than usual, finding herself lying awake most of the night and waking in the wee hours of the morning. Rather than spend any longer trying but failing to sleep, she decided to get up, get dressed and get into the office early before the inevitable drama commenced. She hadn't seen or heard from Harvey since Friday. Rachel and Mike had decided to extend their visit until the following weekend, sticking around to help their friends out. As a result of the tension between Harvey and Donna, they had opted to spend most of the weekend with Rachel's parents.

She reaches out to press the 'close doors' button, but before they can slide shut a hand comes between them. The doors slide open slowly to reveal none other than Harvey Specter, looking as if he got just as little sleep as she did over the weekend.

Donna smiles tightly, "Good morning." She greets, stepping to the side, putting distance between them as he joins her in the carriage.

"Is it?" he jokes weakly, "I just got an email from the Bar, my hearing is in three days."

"What!" she exclaims, babbling, "No! That's outrageous, I can't believe they even accepted the complaint, how the hell-"

"According to Louis, Kessler has friends on the committee." He sighs, explaining their predicament.

She's silent for a few beats, soaking in the information, dread rising in her throat, "so what are we going to do?"

"We're going to fight it." He states, turning to face her now, "we'll make him regret it."

She nods, swallowing her fear, one thing has never changed, in all the years she's known him, and that's her unwavering faith in him.

"I'm sorry." The words escape her without a second thought, "I over-reacted on Friday night, I was hurt, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. None of this is your fault."

"It's ok. I'm sorry too."

"Friends?" she asks, holding out her hand.

 _More than friends,_ He wants to reply. But instead he takes her hand, shaking it gently, "Always."

The rest of the day passed slowly, dragging by. They had decided to wait until later in the day to plan for the Bar, not wishing to draw attention to the fact that Harvey was under investigation.

Rachel and Mike had offered to come in and help, with Louis also agreeing to lend a hand. With the five of them combined, there was no doubt in Harvey's mind that they would come up with a solution within an hour.

Donna wasn't so sure.

She spent the entire day trying to otherwise occupy her mind but to no avail, she wouldn't be at ease until all of this was properly dealt with. All she wanted was a peaceful night's sleep, not a long restless night filled with echoes of Thomas Kessler's venomous words, or the image of Harvey, losing his license.

She rested her cheek on the palm of her healing hand, scabs scratching at her skin, her elbow propped up on her desk. Drowsiness was creeping in, washing over her, she gave in to the sensation, closing her eyes – just for a few seconds – she told herself, no one would notice.

But only moments after her lashes fluttered closed she began to feel herself slipping into the deep sleep she craved, that familiar feeling of drifting away spreading through her body.

 _She saw Harvey, standing in front of the Bar association as they stripped him of his license to practice, Thomas wearing a satisfied smirk, then suddenly, they were in his apartment, Harvey, lying on the floor, seemingly unconscious._

 _"Harvey?"_

 _She ran towards him, but someone pushed her back, falling on the shattered shards of glasses that littered the floor._

 _'Donna, Donna?'_

 _She could hear his calls but she couldn't get to him, every time she got to her feet she was pushed back down to the floor._

 _'Donna? Donna!'_

"Stop." She mumbled, "Stop!"

"Donna!"

She jolted awake with a start, her head had fallen to the desk, cradled by her arms. Disorientated she sat up slowly, feeling a hand on her shoulder she glanced around to see Mike standing over her, "Donna? Is everything ok?" he asks, sitting down on the edge of the desk as she wakes.

"Yeah, sorry-" she rubs the bridge of her nose, keeping her face turned away in embarrassment, "I must've just dozed off – didn't sleep great last night. What time is it?"

"It's just after three." He grimaces, "You were mumbling something about Harvey…" he muses, not wanting to pry but still curious, "You don't need to worry Donna, everything is going to be ok, we'll get him out of this, we always do." He offers his hand and she takes it, standing.

"Thanks Mike." She smiles, pulling him into one of those motherly bear hugs that he missed so much.

"Come on," he says, patting her back, "they're waiting for us in Harvey's office."

Half an hour later they're all sitting around the office, brainstorming ideas for a defense, Donna having remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the discussion.

"It's like I said on Friday night," Mike grumbles, "this is a classic case of 'he said she said' so unless there's a third party – not counting Donna – we're really stuck, and obviously there wasn't, seeing as it was only the three of you at Harvey's place on Thursday night."

Suddenly, Donna perks up, an idea having struck

her out of the blue, "What if we can prove that he came to Harvey's apartment with malicious intentions?"

"How would we do that?" Louis inquires.

"Reece - Thomas's assistant, he saw us in his office that day, he can testify to Thomas' behavior, he also, more than likely overheard that we were arguing over Harvey. That would prove that Thomas pursued Harvey for personal reasons, so if the reason the fight broke out has nothing to do with business, than the charges of 'misconduct towards a client' have to be thrown out. Right?" her eyes are bright.

Harvey's face breaks out in a grin, "You should have been a lawyer Donna." He shakes his head in disbelief.

Louis nods, "That'll also help us prove that Thomas instigated the altercation..."

"But how do we get Reece to testify?" Rachel muses.

"I have a good relationship with the kid, he's a nice guy, hopefully he'll agree to do it." Donna adds, "although I'd be asking him to leave his job, maybe it's not such a good idea-"

"Offer him a job here?" Louis offers, "One of the senior partners is looking for a new assistant, we probably pay more than Kessler and Cline any way."

"Okay," Donna stands, newfound hope swelling in her chest, "I'll give Reece a call."

 _Tuesday_ :

Donna packed up her purse at five-thirty that evening with a smile on her face. The sun was just beginning to set over Manhattan, the city sky flushed with a spectrum of pinks and oranges.

Their plan was working perfectly, Reece had agreed to testify against Thomas, he hadn't even taken much persuasion, delighted at the prospect of coming to work at ZSLWW. Not only that, but he had also been able to give an account of previous situations where Thomas had let his temper get the better of him, establishing a pattern of behavior and solidifying their claim.

Harvey, Mike and Rachel had spent to morning drafting the motion for dismissal, sending it off to be delivered by the early afternoon. Things were looking up, finally. And to top it all off, she was almost certain that Harvey had been flirting with her since that night in his apartment.

A small knock on her glass door pulled her attention back to reality, "Harvey." Her eyes lighting up, "how can I help you?"

"Heading home?" he asked, returning the smile, his voice was soft, low, sending sparks flying through her veins, "I hope you haven't forgotten our double date later?" he teases.

 _Date_.

She feels redness creeping into her cheeks despite herself, "No of course I haven't forgotten…" he had arranged for them to have dinner with Mike and Rachel at Del Posto that evening, "I just wanted to get home a little earlier and get ready."

"I'll pick you up around eight?" he asks, taking her in, the way the colors emitted by the sinking sun catch the different shades in her hair, setting it on fire.

"Harvey, you don't have to pick me up – I can make my own way there…"

"I want to," he assures her, smiling at how shy she's suddenly become, "besides, what kind of date would I be if I didn't offer?"

A giggle escapes her, unwarranted, as if she were a teenager rendered speechless by her first crush. She composes herself, distracted by his grin, "I'll see you at eight."

"Can't wait." He remarks, before strutting away, she doesn't miss the way he glances back at her through the glass.

 _What the hell has gotten into him_.

She trots to the elevator with a long forgotten bounce in her step, reminiscing of her closet, the many gowns and shoes awaiting selection, although one stands out in her mind. Emerald green, satin, falling just below the knee, slit to the thigh, backless.

A piece they had purchases on one of her and Harvey's many excursions, they had been hunting for the perfect pair of Jimmy Choos, when the dress caught her eye, Harvey insisting she try it on. The image of his jaw dropping when she emerged from the fitting room was seared in her memory. She hadn't worn it since, in the back of her mind she always felt as though she was saving it, although she was never sure for what exactly.

 _Now she knew_.

The cab ride home passed by in a blur, her head filled with thoughts of tonight, _with thoughts of him_. Usually she wouldn't allow herself to indulge in day-dreams of the two of them, but it felt good to release, let her mind go there, contemplate what they could be rather than disregarding the possibility all together. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced for thirteen years – twelve and a half to be exact.

She pays the driver, tipping him generously, her excitement elevating with every passing second, stepping out of the car, humming a disjointed tune, she rummages in her bag for her keys, she takes a glance up, watching her step. And that's when she sees him. Her body goes slack, drained of happiness with a single look.

Thomas, sitting on the steps of her building, he looks rough, five o'clock shadow darkening his cheeks, shirt collar out of place. He hasn't spotted her yet, his head bowed as he rests his elbows on his knees.

Donna stops in her tracks, relenting the pursuit of her keys and instead reaching for her phone, she pulls it out, fingers shaking as she slides it open. She turns, beginning to walk in the opposite direction, back towards the main avenue, when she hears him.

"Donna!"

Hastily, she types the message:

 _TK at my door_.

She quickens her pace but can hear his heavier foot fall, fast approaching, she's still a good few meters from the entrance to the avenue, the speech bubble pops up, he's typing:

 _On my way_.

"Donna, wait!"

 _Are you okay?_

She doesn't stop, no time to reply, not sure why she feels the need to run but instinct drives her forward. He's too fast, her heels leaving her at a disadvantage. He's in front of her in the blink of an eye, blocking her path.

 _Answer me??_

"Thomas," she greets, keeping her tone neutral, hoping that maybe she can defuse the tension with nonchalance, her hand clutching the phone, "how can I help you?"

He scoffs, "what the hell do you think you're playing at."

Well, there goes any hope of a civilized conversation, he was clearly already worked up, "Thomas, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

She knows exactly what he's talking about, the allegations made against him in the counter suit. She wouldn't be surprised if he was already in trouble with the board of his company. They should have expected he would lash out at her.

He laughs again, and she clenches her jaw, resisting the urge to slap him across the face here and now, but that wouldn't help and she knows it.

"Don't you dare play dumb with me." He seethes, his eyes narrowing, "You know exactly why I'm-"

"Listen, I'm not going to have this conversation with you," she sighs, glancing at her phone, there's at least five more messages from Harvey, turning her back as she heads back in the direction of her apartment, "so I suggest you just –"

He swerves in front of her again, stopping her in her tracks. Donna steps to the left, trying to move around him, but he mirrors her, blocking her way once again. Her face flashes in a glare.

She feels desperation creeping up on her, not sure exactly how she's going to shake him, "What's it going to take to get you to leave me the hell alone Thomas?"

He's silent for a second, glancing at her, up and down, her skin crawls, then he speaks, "Retract your statement."

She's at a crossroads now, just like before in his office last week:

 _Lie and he won't believe you._

 _Tell the truth and there's no telling what happens next._

But she's not a liar, and she's not afraid, so the truth is her only option.

"No." she answers.

"Excuse me?" he takes a step closer.

"You heard me." She raises her chin, never breaking eye contact.

"You're going to lose me my god damn company!" he all but roars, and suddenly she regrets living on such a secluded street, glancing around for any living soul and finding the space deserted.

"You should have thought about that before you filed a complaint with the bar." She stares him down, his gaze so intense it frightens her, but she'd never show it.

She jumps at the sound of her phone, buzzing in her hand as it rings, she doesn't need to look to know whose name is on the screen.

 _Harvey_

Thomas' eyes catch sight of it, and his face flashes with a different kind of rage, "Your boyfriend's calling." He spits.

"He's not my boyfriend." The answer slips from her mouth before she can stop it.

"That's not how he made it seem earlier today…" Thomas sneers.

She knows she shouldn't retaliate, that he's winding her up, searching for a reaction, but she can't help but take the bait, she hangs up the call, "What do you mean?"

"I ran into Mr Donna Paulesn at the Bar earlier today," Thomas recants, clearly gaining enjoyment watching her squirm, "He didn't deny anything…"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she fumes, infuriated at Thomas for taunting her, but furious with Harvey for giving him ammunition.

"I suppose you can ask him that yourself, now, getting back to business-" as if on cue her phone begins to vibrate again, Harvey's name flashing across the screen, without warning Thomas grabs her wrist, "Shut that up!"

She pulls at his grip, but her phone flies from her hand as she jerks it, shattering on the pavement.

She wriggles free and dodges past him, hurrying to the front door, she swipes her key card, pulling the door open towards her, when his hand lands on the panel, shutting it with a bang, boxing her in.

Her heart thrums in her chest, hanging on to the adrenaline that keeps her from passing out, slowly she turns on her heel, face to face now, back pressed against the door, putting as much space between them as physically possible. She can feel his breath on her neck, turning her stomach.

"Thomas I suggest you back the hell off before one of us does something we might regret-"

She's cut off as his palm strikes her cheek, she barely has time to register the sting, instinct fueling her reaction, her knee comes up sharply, connecting with his groin.

He heaves, doubling over in pain at the blow. She takes her chance, swinging the door open with so much force that the hinges whine, slamming it quickly behind her.

Her back comes to rest against the heavy fire door, panting, the last doses of adrenaline seeping through her skin, the taste of blood on her lips, cut in the blow. She can't move, fear reaching her in a delayed reaction, she remains rooted in place, trembling, silent tears falling without permission, unaware of the passing of time, the world seems frozen in place.

The distinct sound of the lock clicking on the other side of the door sobers her, she stumbles away from her crutch, when her eyes finally focus it's Harvey she sees before her, the key she'd given him hanging loosely in his hand, his face is lined with concern, every wrinkle spelling out worry, desperation.

He's saying something, his lips are moving, but it doesn't register, her ears hum, as if an extractor fan were whizzing in her head, making it hard to concentrate on more than one sense at a time. She feels her knees go weak, buckling beneath her, hands supporting her by the elbows, she rejects the grip, pushing him away, she doesn't want to be touched, but it doesn't relent. She wants the ground to open up, swallow her whole.

She gets her wish, as it all fades to black, darkness dragging her under its spell.

 **Xxx**

 **Hello again! Thank you all so much for the support, I absolutely loveee hearing your thoughts!!! Part 4 coming soon...**


	4. Part 4

**_This is a short chapter, but an important one. So I hope you enjoy x_**

Part 4:

Harvey jumps from the cab before it comes to a halt, throwing a fifty-dollar bill on the seat as he leaps onto the pavement. He all but runs, taking large strides towards the building, his eyes scanning the street, searching for any sign of Donna, or Kessler, but there's no trace of either. He tries her phone for the umpteenth time, and startles as he hears her ring tone, his gaze drawn towards the side of the footpath, where her iPhone lies, shattered by a spider web of cracks, somehow still functioning.

His heart beats at a mile a minute, fear clenching its fist around his chest as he takes the last few steps up the stairs to the door of her building. His hand fumbles in his pocket as he reaches for the key she gave him, swiping the card and pulling the handle with jittery fingers.

He's winded when he sees her, at first, overwhelmed by relief that she's safe, the air pushed from his lungs in a gust of breath. But on further inspection, he realizes there's something wrong.

She's trembling like a leaf, her lips and chin stained red, a tint that could be mistaken for lipstick, there's a pink streak on her cheek bone, the beginnings of a bruise, covered over by streams upon streams of dried tear tracks.

"Jesus, Donna what happened?" he asks, his concern evident, but she just stares back at him, her vision seems out of focus, he notices her sway slightly, blinking a few times as she takes him in, she's panting heavily, her breathing so loud you'd think she'd just run a marathon.

"Donna can you hear me?" he raises his voice, but she still doesn't respond.

Without warning, he watches as her legs wobble, knees caving in. He lurches towards her, grabbing her elbows as he supports her weight. Donna pulls away weakly, whining, it's the first sign of consciousness she's given him since arriving, but it worries him further.

"I've got you." He comforts, but she shakes her head, still resisting his help. Then, without warning, her eyes flutter closed, her body going slack against him, as a hand flies to wrap around her waist, taking her weight.

The first thing she notices is the throbbing in her temple. Her eyes still too heavy to open, she hears herself groan as she shifts her body, realizing she's laying on a mattress, the feeling familiar, she takes a deep breath through her nose, the smell of her own perfume wafting from the sheets. This is her bed. But how did she get here?

Her eyes crack open, testing her sight, but she winces at the dull light of the lamp in her room, blinking a few times before the sensation becomes bearable. She moves slowly, sitting up in her bed, her head still aching, resting her body back against the head board. Her hand comes to her face with the intention of rubbing her eyes, but upon making contact with her cheek, the light pressure sends a shocking pain through the entire left side of her face, pursing her lips in agony, a small yelp of surprise slipping from her throat.

Then it all hits her at once.

The confrontation outside the building, the way he spoke to her, followed her, cornered her.

Hit her.

She can barely remember a moment after that, all she can seem to recall is pure panic, someone else was there, talking to her, trying to help, but who –

Harvey.

At the thought of his name her mind is filled with a mix of relief and pure rage.

Thomas' words echoing in her mind, Harvey implying they were together – had been together – this whole time. Giving truth to the very allegations Thomas – and many others – had used to belittle and shame her.

 _How could he?_

With great effort, she swings her legs off the bed, allowing herself a moment to recuperate, feeling lightheaded, the sensations in her body similar to that of a rough hangover.

She stumbles to her feet, clutching the bedside table for added support, with a push, she launches herself away from the bed, a move she almost instantly regrets. She moved far too quickly, her head whirls, nausea swirling in her stomach, she makes her way clumsily to the ensuite bathroom of her bedroom, bumping into her vanity table as she goes, knocking something over with a loud clatter.

Donna falls to her knees, just about reaching the toilet bowl as she heaves, barely anything leaving her empty stomach, did I even eat yesterday? She thinks, as her stomach lurches again, the anxiety surrounding the ordeal with Thomas, Harvey and the bar, had silenced her appetite, as well as giving her countless sleep deprived nights.

Donna chokes again, coughing at the dryness scratching her throat, feeling an inordinate amount of self-pity. She feels a hand on her back, someone kneeling beside her, holding her hair back. Not needing to look to know it's Harvey, briefly forgetting her anger at him as she leans into his touch, accepting the comfort she craves.

"What's happening?" she gasps between coughs, starting to feel panic clawing at her chest, was there something wrong with her?

"It's just the after-shock… it seems like it all got a bit too much for you," he soothes, but it doesn't pacify her, "You had a bit of a meltdown…" he explains, "I think it was a mixture of the stress, anxiety and adrenaline, I used to get like this sometimes – after a particularly bad…"

"Panic attack." She finishes for him and he nods, shushing her as she dry-heaves again, choking back sobs in between.

"Did you eat anything in the last twenty-four hours?" he inquires, and she shakes her head slowly, she sits back away from the toilet, leaning back on the edge of the bath, enjoying the coolness of the porcelain. He gets to his feet, wetting a face cloth and bending down next to her, wiping her face clean of the dried blood and sweat gently, but she flinches when he brushes her cheek.

He's riddled with guilt, mad at himself that he didn't get there sooner, or see something like this coming, ashamed he didn't notice the effect this whole situation had been having on her, the stress it's put her through, he was naïve to think they could just move past this, he can't imagine what she must be feeling. This whole situation could have been avoided, if he'd only paid closer attention.

Harvey waits a few minutes, giving her time to settle before asking the question which had been burning on his tongue since he arrived, although he was certain he already knew the answer, "Kessler did this?" he whispers, his thumb ghosting over the mark on her pale skin, not touching.

Without opening her eyes she nods, confirming his suspicion, his jaw and fist clench tightly in unison, "I already made some calls, reported his actions, we can get a restraining order, maybe even get him arrested –"

"Harvey, stop," she whimpers, it's too much to take in, the very mention of his name sending her on a downward spiral, and as she begins to recover from her lapse, her anger at him comes creeping back in, when his hand brushes her wrist she swipes it away, "I think you should go."

He looks dumbfounded, thrown by her sudden change of attitude, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have brought him up, I'm just so – "

"Please Harvey," she whispers, it's so hard to be mad at him, but she can't stop the feeling charging her veins, "I need you to leave."

She pulls herself to her feet, ignoring the protest of her body, the way her vision blurs at the action, her head still unsteady. He tries to help her but she waves him off, shuffling back to bed, stumbling on the make-up brushes she knocked over earlier. Harvey hooks a hand under her arm, stopping her from falling over. She resists his help, just like before.

"Let go," she gasps, tugging her arm away from him and collapsing on to the bed, "why are you still here?"

"Don – " she's not sure she's ever seen him looks so confused in all the time they've known each other, "Did I do something wrong?"

She takes a deep breath. Considering the question. Did he do something wrong? He implied that the allegations made about them were true, probably fueling the rumors the likes of Malik and Tanner take pleasure in spreading about her. But deep down inside, she knew she wanted him in that way, so why was she so mad?

"You implied that we," she gestures between them, "are a thing – don't lie – Thomas told me you saw him."

His silence confirms the truth, he stares at her, eyes filled with guilt.

"Do you know how that looks for me?" she seethes, she knows she should stop, that fury is fueling her words, but she can't stop them from gushing out, "You made me out to be exactly what they all think –"

"I didn't mean for it to seem that way –" he stutters.

"Well it does! And I'm the one that experiences the backlash, I'm the one they whisper about, I'm the one who gets called a slut!"

The tears are flowing freely now, not just from Donna's eyes, but also from Harvey's. He sits down at the edge of the bed, head bowed, not daring to look at her.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, and he means it, "I let my own feelings get the better of me, I was thinking about what I wanted instead of the affect it might have on you."

Her head snaps up, his admittion catching her attention, "What do you want?" she probes.

Harvey raises his head, meeting her eyes in a tearful gaze, "I want you," he admits, "and I have for a long while now, I always have, it just took me a while to realize it."

"Harvey –" she gasps.

"That's why I didn't deny it, because I wished it was true. I'm sorry that it hurt you." He replies, smiling sadly.

"It only hurt me…" she hesitates, "because I thought this would be another 'it doesn't mean..' moment, but now…"

"It does mean something, it always has." He confirms, moving closer to her, relieved when this time she doesn't flinch.

"Well you should know," she sits forward, taking his hand, showing him that it's okay, "That I want you too."

He smiles softly, and she mirrors him, a hand coming up to brush the crinkles of his cheeks as he grins, "We still have a lot to talk about – before…" she whispers.

"I know," he agrees, rubbing his thumb over her hand, "and now's not the time for it, you're not well, we're both a little out of it," he chuckles, "We'll talk about this tomorrow, and that's a promise. But right now, if you'll let me, I just want to be here for you?" he asks, tucking a strand of her behind her ear.

She smiles brighter, nodding her consent, she scoots over in the bed, letting him climb up beside her, his arm draped around her waist, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

The feeling of contentment over powering the sorrows of the past few days as she melts into him, "This is all I've ever wanted." She admits.

"I wish we could've gotten here sooner." He answers sadly.

"That doesn't matter anymore," she assures him, "what matters is that we're here now…"

"And I'm not going anywhere." He finishes with a kiss to her temple.

They lie there, in the dim glowing light of her bedroom, letting the minutes slip past with ease, not saying a word. The way they hold and cradle each other saying all there is to be said – for now. After a little while, they rise from the bed, as he helps her out of her dress, unbuttoning his shirt a slipping it over her shoulders in place, as she hugs the soft cotton to her body, his scent brushing her skin, acting as an anesthetic as she slips beneath the covers, feeling more at ease than she had in days.

Donna feels the mattress shift next to her, as he nestles in, turning to face him, his features still as strikingly handsome in the darkness. Her instinct is to turn around, cuddle herself back into him, spooning, but she can't seem to tear her eyes away from the sight of him, here, with her, a twinkle in his eye that promises a new beginning for them, one without painful uncertainty or 'what if's'. An honest future, one where they are unafraid to lean on each other, unashamed of their closeness, every little feeling disclosed.

All this time, she had been so afraid. Fearing the failure of them, the rumors, the gossip, the allegations. Terrified that it might lessen her standing, all she's worked for, worried he might not return her feelings. But now, deep brown orbs staring back at, the corners of his eyes wrinkled in a smile, that feeling of horror seems to melt away, seeping through the cracks he's somehow managed to open up in her, and all it takes is the tip of his nose brushing her's and suddenly she's falling – no leaping – over the edge, allowing the dams to break, the love she'd held back flooding her veins in a surge of ecstasy.

And they know, that no matter what tomorrow holds, they will stand by each other's side, the one constant in each-other's lives, and the only one that matters.

Sleep takes hold in a matter of moments, both drifting off into a well-earned peaceful sleep, filled with dreams of all the wonders to come.

XXX

 **Part 5 is on the way soon... thanks for all the lovely support, your reviews always make me smile xxx**


	5. Part 5

Part 5:

She wakes slowly the following morning, easing herself into consciousness rather than jolting upright suddenly, relishing in a few stolen moments of peace before her mind kicks into gear, the revolving door in her brain letting in worry after worry. Filling her lungs, breathing through her nose she detects Harvey's musk, tickling her senses, a small smile gracing her lips as she blinks her eyes open, rolling onto her back. The room is bright, black out curtains pulled back from the window pane, the sheer blinds allowing beams of sunshine to illuminate the room.

Donna doesn't need to glance to her side to know he's not there next to her, the clatter of cutlery coming from the kitchen and the distinct smell of pancakes wafting through the ajar door giving the game away. She rises from the bed, feeling like a ghost in her own home. Harvey's presence certainly made this ordeal easier, but she couldn't shake the gut feeling that there was more heartache to come.

Things had slipped out last night, in the heat of their swirling emotions, admissions had been made in the eye of the storm. Cards they had held close to their chests for years had somehow been laid on the table without a moment's thought. Maybe she was being overly analytical, but it all seemed a bit too good to be true.

She didn't doubt the truth in his words, or her own for that matter. What she was most skeptical about was whether either of them were really ready to hear it. It felt good in the moment, but now they face reality.

The doubt slips from her mind as she feels the collar of his shirt brush her jaw, allowing her to fall head first back into the fantasy of him, and the fact that at this very second, Harvey Specter was baking in her kitchen.

She passes the mirror without a glance, subconsciously knowing that she doesn't want to see her current reflection staring back at her, if the pain in her cheek is any indication.

She pushes down the bile that rises in her throat when she's reminded of yesterday, the very notion of Thomas Kessler striking her with a newfound level of hatred and disgust. She couldn't focus on that now.

One more time.

She would have to face him today, one last time. In front of the bar committee where she presumed his claim would be dismissed, if not – well that's a battle for another day.

When she reaches the hallway, she comes to a halt, taking in the view before her, her mind's eye taking a mental picture, wishing to hold on to this moment for ever.

Harvey, fussing around her kitchen – shirtless – hair askew from sleeping, navy boxers his only item of clothing. He's humming something too himself and it doesn't take long for her to piece together the disjointed notes as one of Gordon's songs, one she knew to be both their favorites.

"Good morning, I didn't realize I'd hired help?" she chimes, strolling into the kitchen with grace and seating herself in one of the high chairs at the breakfast bar.

"At your service Madame." He bows mockingly, smirking at her as he dishes up the fresh food, "volia, pancakes á la Specter."

"Merci beaucoup." She winks, as he places the plate in front of her, she doesn't miss how his eyes linger on her cheek, making her tense on her stool, averting her eyes.

"Well, you mentioned last night you hadn't been eating so I decided I was going to fix that." He takes his seat across from her, observing her every reaction.

"What? No whipped cream?" she pouts, glancing across to the counter.

"Always one step ahead Paulsen," he shakes his head, producing the can from behind his back, swirling a blob on her stack of pancakes.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were flirting with me." She remarks innocently, although the answer is in fact a probe, to see how willing he is to go there.

"Who, me?" he replies, smiling tightly, before continuing to dig into his breakfast, she reads the reaction in a heartbeat, the realization slamming her in the chest, his reluctance is obvious, what if he really is having second thoughts?

She can't help how her attitude begins to morph at her insinuation, her defenses flying back into place. Never taking a moment to appreciate that they're both trying so hard to read the other's mind, that the essence of last night's conversation is becoming lost, washed out by the paranoia.

"Just so you know, I had to let the others know what happened yesterday…" she looks up at him, aghast, "I had to Donna, they had to build it into the case – and I had to give Rachel and Mike some reason for why were cancelling again … I didn't go into detail…"

She just stares blankly at him, fury and shame burning her face, but she decides not to challenge him, lacking the energy for a fight.

Her fork drops from her hand with a clatter, earning a confused frown from Harvey as he chews another mouthful, his plate almost clean, "On second thought, I think I've had enough." She stands from the table, heading for the fridge in search of a glass of water instead, hoping to swallow the rising anxiety.

"You've barely touched your breakfast," he shakes his head, taking one last bite before rising to follow her, "you need to eat-"

"I'm not hungry." She snaps, the reply more hostile than she had intended. She reaches into the cupboard, rummaging for the little box.

"What do you need?" he asks, and they're both aware of the double entendre, eyes locking for a moment.

She wants to say, 'I need you to show me how. Show me that you meant what you said, show me how you meant it."

But instead she mumbles, "Painkillers."

He brushed past her, reaching to the highest shelf and retrieving the vile of pills, her eyes a wide and full, of what, he can't tell. He wants to reach out to her, initiate the continuation of last night's discussion, but he can't seem to articulate his thoughts coherently, it had been so much easier last night, emotions raw, it marvels him how they're drawn to each other when they're hurting.

Harvey hands her the pills, their hands brushing as they go, almost certain he hears her breath hitch at the touch. She turns away promptly, and he doesn't miss how her hand quivers slightly as she lifts the glass to her lips, swallowing with a slight wince.

"Does it hurt to chew?" he asks sympathetically, eyes running over the splash of blue-grey on her cheek.

She nods, raising a hand to cover the mark, then loosening a few locks of amber from behind her ear, a feeble attempt to disguise it from his view, "I'm sorry about yesterday… the erm date, and how I acted, I was a mess-"

"Donna." His voice is stern and she flinches, averting her eyes, "You don't need to apologize for what he did, and you're reaction was totally normal."

"Still embarrassing though." She grumbles, fidgeting with the sleeves of the shirt she wears, thumb brushing over the 'H.S' carved into the material in blue thread.

"You don't ever have to feel embarrassed with me, I'm always going to be here." He assures her, his fingers twitching at his side as he considers taking her hand, ultimately deciding against it.

"Okay," she replies, although the comment doesn't sit right with her, she wants to scream, 'then prove it' but instead she lets it hang.

"He's going to be there later…" Harvey whispers.

"I know, I can handle it." She answers, although she doesn't even convince herself.

"Are you sure?" he asks, trying to decipher her body language, treading carefully around the subject, recalling last night's reaction at the mention of Kessler's name.

"No," she answers honestly, with a dry laugh, although there's no lightness in her tone, "but I'll be fine as long as I'm not alone, Mike, Rachel and Louis will be there –"

"And me." He offers, earning a nod from the redhead, his anger at Thomas begins to bubble up in him again, the last time he saw Donna looking this defeated was shortly after the Stephen Huntly situation, it makes his blood boil, "He won't touch you again, I'll make sure of it."

"Don't –" she shakes her head, hair falling in front of her face, masking her annoyance, "just don't."

He's stumped for a reply, once again he's managed to put his foot in it, he's no mind reader, all he wants is for her to tell him what she's feeling, what she needs, so he can give her everything.

"Look at the time," she says clearing her throat, "I need to start getting ready, you should probably go."

He wants to say no, ask what happened to the promise of a continuation of last night's conversation. But instead he nods, following her back into the bedroom to collect his clothes.

"Oh, you're shirt…" she begins unbuttoning, slowly, but he raises a hand.

"Keep it," he pulls his t-shirt vest over his head, "I'll just wear this."

She sees him to the door in silence, opening the lock and letting him out into the hallway, "Thanks again, for helping me." She offers, hoping to defuse the tension somewhat.

"Any time, I'll get Ray to swing by here on the way to the Bar later, we can pick you up." He replies.

"No, it's okay, I'll get a cab." She insists, she'd never admit it, but showing up together is the last thing she wants right now, it may be irrational, but she fears it might provoke Thomas.

"Okay." He answers, out of energy to fight her, "See you later then."

"Bye."

As soon as the door swings closed, she lets out a sigh, that familiar ache in her heart, the taste of regret burning her tongue, a sensation she's experienced ever damn time she's allowed him to walk out that door, when all she's ever wanted to do is beg him to stay.

He pushes the heavy door open, the cool air biting his skin as he walks out onto the street, something he's done time and time again, always filled with a burning longing for her, a magnetic pull that makes it almost impossible for him to leave, when her eyes seem to scream stay.

An hour later, as she sits at her vanity table, staring at her worn out visage, all she can focus on is the reflection of the room behind her, the memories that haunt this space, flashes of the other time making her long for him in a way she wishes she wouldn't, the ghosts of their younger selves gliding across the room, laughs and sounds of pleasure echoing in her ears.

Harvey collapses onto his bed when he reaches home, he'd barely slept a wink last night, unable to tear his eyes away from her sleeping form, taking in the bedroom he remembered so well, although now it was changed, more modern, more expensive, the layout remained the same. Memories of their first – only time – danced behind his eyes, afraid to fall asleep, wanting to continue living in the past, almost like he was experiencing it all over again, lulled into the day dream by the steady sound of her light snoring.

She applies another layer of concealer to her cheek, but it's of no avail. Frustrated for more reasons than one, she stands from her stool, approaching her closet, fingers tracing over the collection of designer clothes, everything from Alexander McQueen to Versace. She settles for a dark navy Chanel piece in the end, high neckline, flowing skirt that grazes her knees, reasonably plain, which is exactly what she wants, to blend in. Usually, she loves being at the center of everyone's attention and admiration, but today, all she wants is to disappear, avoid prying eyes, looks of concern, pity. Not that she doesn't appreciate the sympathy, but it has a way of making her feel weak.

Harvey unravels the lavender satin, throwing it behind him, his third attempt at picking the right tie to wear. He scans the array of colorful options, his eyes drawn to a silk navy blue tie at the far end of the collection. He reaches for it, tying it in place and folding down his collar, the choice feels right somehow. He stares himself down in the mirror, silently prepping himself for the fight to come. 'Keep your cool,' he thinks, willing himself to listen, 'for her sake.' Harvey turns, shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, with one finally glance in the mirror.

"For our sake." He mumbles.

XXX

Donna arrives at the Bar association sooner than she intended, she'd left her house early, considering traffic, but seeing as it was midday the roads weren't too busy. She scans the room as she enters the lobby of the building, looking for someone from the firm, but even this space is relatively uncrowded. She wants to ring them, find out where they are, but with her phone still in pieces after yesterday, that doesn't seem like an option.

Finding herself wandering further away from the revolving door, she continues her search for a familiar face, hoping that one of the others had the same idea as her and had also arrived before due.

Her gaze locks with a familiar pair of eyes across the room.

Someone had had the same idea as her, the problem is, that someone, was Thomas Kessler.

She freezes, a chill washing over her body as he rises from his seat, he's far enough across the room, but she can still read his demeanor as he approaches her, he looks indifferent, maybe a little ashamed, but she definitely wouldn't describe his eyes as apologetic.

Donna finds herself rooted in place, her breath picking up as he draws nearer. He wouldn't try anything, surely not, not here.

But that reasoning does nothing to deflate the panic blooming in her chest.

He's only a few moments away now, his lips parting as though about to speak, he stops a respectable distance, at least six feet between them, that doesn't make the situation any less intimidating.

"Donna, I –"

"Hey!"

The sound of Mike's alarmed voice sends relief washing over her whole body, her eyes finding him as he steps between them, staring down the taller man. Donna startles when she feels a hand on her shoulder, only to discover that it's Rachel at her side, the brunette's hand slips into her friends, and Donna grips it for dear life, eyes still fixed on her ex-boyfriend.

"You'll stay away from her if you know what's good for you." Mike seethes, keeping his voice low, preventing them from drawing attention to the scene.

"Mike," Rachel calls softly, coaxing him away from the confrontation. Him and Rachel give Kessler a disgusted glare, before they both return their attention to Donna, who had paled noticeably, leading her out of the lobby and towards one of the empty corridors and sitting her down on a plastic chair.

"Are you alright?" Rachel inquires, crouching down next to her.

Donna only nods in reply, breathing deeply as she relaxes, comforted by the presence of her friends.

"Did he say anything to you?" Mike follows, handing her a styrofoam cup of water, which she accepts gratefully with a shaky hand.

She shakes her head this time, reassuring them, but her slightly clammy skin and white face leave the pair concerned.

"Donna sweetie, do you feel ok?" Rachel prods.

"I just got a fright." She admits, gulping, "I wasn't ready –"

Another voice protrudes the hallway, attracting everyone's attention, "What's going on? What happened?" Harvey booms, rushing over to the group.

"Thomas tried talking to her," Mike explains, finishing his sentence quickly in an attempt to extinguish the red patches of fury blooming on Harvey's cheeks, "We stepped in before he got the chance."

Harvey's shoulders deflate with relief, nodding his thanks to Mike an Rachel as he crouches down at Donna's other side, "You don't have to be here," he offers, one hand on her wrist, "if you're not feeling up to it -"

"Enough," she sighs, shaking both Harvey's and Rachel's comforting grips, she appreciates the concern, but she's coming round from the shock now, and the overbearing pity is starting to naw away at her last nerve, "I'm fine, nothing happened, I over-reacted –"

"You didn't over react Donna," Rachel insists, "how you responded was totally normal –"

"Please," Donna breathes, scrunching up her face in semi annoyance, "can we just drop this now."

Everyone is silent, Mike, Rachel and Harvey exchanging glances brimming with worry and uncertainty, not wanting to press her, but knowing they shouldn't let it go.

Donna catches their exchange, huffing as she stands from her chair, "Stop that." She grumbles, "I can't deal with this right now –"

"You're right," Harvey compromises, standing up to match her as he takes a peek at his watch, "Now's not the time, we're due in five minutes."

The hearing runs smoothly, Thomas' claim being dismissed without a shadow of a doubt from any member of the committee. Thomas Kessler receiving a scolding from a rather brazen lady who sat at the center of the board, and Donna couldn't help but smirk at the childlike sulk on his face. A couple of seat-holders remained suspiciously quiet during the course of the debate, Donna pegging them as Thomas' connections, she even received a look of contempt from one of the suspects, a thin man with greying hair, who glanced back at her more than a few times during the hearing, each time she matched him with deadly glare. If only looks could kill.

They leave the building half an hour later, Donna feeling a weight lifted from her shoulders, although something still lurked in the back of her mind, clawing and nagging at her, the feeling seemed to accelerate every time her and Harvey made contact. Physically or emotionally.

The four of them congregate on the marble steps outside, Louis apologizing as he rushes off for an emergency meeting. To say they're over the moon with the out-come would be an understatement, but a sense of tension still lingers among the group of friends.

"How about we go out tonight?" Rachel suggests, hoping to defuse some of the suspense, "A make-up date for last night?"

The two men don't smile but don't reply immediately, they're all waiting for Donna's response, aware that her opinion will be the decider.

"How about tomorrow night?" she asks, not wanting to disappoint her friends, but really not feeling up to any more socializing tonight, hoping the compromise will satisfy the group and give her enough time to reign in whatever it is she's feeling for Harvey right now.

"Sounds like a plan." Mike exclaims, and with that they descend the steps, Mike and Rachel hailing a cab while Donna and Harvey wait for Ray.

They pull up outside Donna's apartment after an eerily quiet drive. Harvey jumping from his seat to open the door for the redhead, beating Ray to the move.

She smiles politely in thanks, but he knows it's forced, the revelation sending him on a fast paced downward spiral.

"Thanks for sticking around today." He tries, smiling sheepishly.

"Not like I had anything better to do." She quips, but the humor is a weak attempt to relax the strain in the conversation.

There's quiet for a moment. Both staring back at the other, waiting for one of them to fill the space. Say what they feel for once, without the added motive of a threat to push them to admit their feelings.

When he doesn't take the chance, she decides to close the window, growing increasingly tired of this game of cat and mouse with every second that creeps past.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow night then." She bids, already rummaging for her keys.

"See you then." He agrees, disappointed he let another opportunity slip away.

The heavy door shuts after her with a resounding slam, and whether it was intentional or not, the sound echoes through Harvey, sending a chilling vibration up and down the length of his spine. Even though they had just won the battle, he feels as though he's inevitably losing the war.

That evening, Donna wakes with a start from what she had intended to be a catnap. Sprawled out in bed on her stomach, the sparkling city lights mock her as she peels her eyes open, groaning when she realizes it's already late, the night sky on full display as her curtains hang open.

With great effort, she pulls herself from the comfort of her bed, her neck aching with a crick from the awkward position she'd slept in. Reaching for her mesh cover up and wrapping it over the silk, beige slip.

She makes her way to the kitchen, refilling her glass from the bottle of red wine she'd opened earlier before passing out.

This much wine on an empty stomach was absolutely a recipe for disaster. But she couldn't bring herself to care.

She swirls the burgundy liquid in her mouth, letting it sooth her, as she returns to her bedroom, scooping up the Chanel dress which she'd discarded earlier and returning it to her closet, opening the transparent door and walking among her most prized possessions. As she hangs the dress carefully in place, a tattered blue shoe box catches her eye, peeking out from between the stacks of sleek black and red Jimmy Choo and Louboutin boxes. The old worn out thing sticking out like a sore thumb.

Donna knows exactly what it is. An old box of memories, long forgotten about.

She kneels down, placing her glass on the carpeted ground beside her, pulling the box into her lap and dusting off the lid as she opens it.

Familiar faces smile back at her with glee. The first picture that draws her attention is an old one, more than likely taken on a disposable camera. It paints her and Harvey, back in the D.A's office, her sitting behind her desk and him perched on the corner, she's beaming at the camera, but he's looking at her, Cheshire cat grin as charming as always, his smile hasn't aged a day. She searches the archives of her memory, wishing she could recall the moment this was taken, but the truth is, it could have been any damn day. They're morning – heavily flirty – conversations were a regular occurrence, Harvey always initiating it by wandering over to her desk, sitting close enough that she could smell the sweetness of his 'trying too hard' after shave.

She places the picture to one side, reaching into the box for another. Her heart flutters, instantly remembering the day this was taken. It was the day he – no, they – made junior partner. The pair were posing in his new office, her hand resting on his shoulder, his on her waist. She recalls how the picture was meant to be just of him, but he's insisted she join him, flattered by the invitation.

The next picture features Rachel as well, she remembers that night vaguely, Mike took this on his BlackBerry, which accounts for the grainy quality of the print. They're seated in the conference room, surrounded by an array of files, she's sitting in the middle, Harvey on one side and Rachel on the other. The two women are pulling faces, Rachel sticking her tongue out and Donna puckering her lips, blowing a kiss at the lens, Harvey is laughing, the type of laugh that makes his eyes wrinkle, she doesn't fail to notice that his eyes are on her.

She pulls out one more, a group picture, the evening Mike passed the bar, the whole family present here, posing in a candid way, not a single one of them looking at the camera. Mike and Rachel at the center, arms around each other in bliss, Jessica and Louis looking at the couple with adoration, and from opposite ends of the huddle, her and Harvey's eyes are locked together, beaming at each other like proud parents.

There's another picture from that night, similar to the last, this one more formal, all but one smiling at the camera. Harvey's eyes are still trained on her, his smile is lighter than before, more whimsical, and she feels a lump rise in her throat. In almost every picture, he's looking at her, the same expression evident in his eyes each time.

 _But it doesn't mean…_

She takes a gulp of wine, swallowing the rising sorrow in her throat, not allowing herself to go there, no matter how badly she wants to.

A distant banging reaches her ears, returning her to the present moment. She listens carefully, surprised by the noise, presuming she'd imagined it, but when the noise invades the silence again, she rises from the floor, tucking the picture in her hand into the pocket of her cover up absentmindedly as she makes her way to the front door.

The countless images from their past are swimming in her head, the look on his face as he smiled at her sending butterflies to her stomach and a familiar tingling to her core. She'd seen that look on his face before, on top of her, sweaty, breathing heavily, looking down at her as if she were the most important thing in the world. And for that night, at least, she'd believed him. After that night, she'd convinced herself it had been her imagination, her heightened senses over-romanticizing what had actually happened, caught up in the heat of the moment, the feeling of their bodies becoming one at long last.

But now she knew it too be true.

Donna undoes the lock of the door, rather stupidly, she just take a look through the peep-hole, pulling the wooden door open swiftly, her mind still lost in the past.

Eyes meet.

Her body tenses.

Hands clutch into fists at her side.

She has to resist the urge to slam the door, to hide.

He looms closer.

Her breath catches.

Chest constricted.

When she speaks, it's barely above a whisper.

"What are you doing here?"

XXX

I know certain people are going to killllll me for yet another cliffhanger… but what can I say? You know you love me ;)

Who's at the door?? New chapter coming soon…


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is M rated, for reasons :)**

 **It's also the last chapter of this series.**

 **Hope you enjoy x**

Part 6:

Donna undoes the lock of the door, rather stupidly, she just take a look through the peep-hole, pulling the wooden door open swiftly, her mind still lost in the past.

Eyes meet.

Her body tenses.

Hands clutch into fists at her side.

She has to resist the urge to slam the door, to hide.

He looms closer.

Her breath catches.

Chest constricted.

When she speaks, it's barely above a whisper.

"What are you doing here?"

"How could I stay away?" Thomas sneers, and the tone of his voice ignites outrage deep in her chest, masking the underlying fear, temporarily.

"What's it going to take for you to get the message," she speaks quietly, conscious of the late hour, and the neighbors around her, she steps behind the door, beginning to close it over, "If you bother me again, I'll call the cops-"

His hand lands on the panel of the door, causing her to startle, preventing her from closing it any further, she takes another step behind the wood, shielding herself as she glares at him.

"Get over yourself," he spits, and she grips the handle tighter for support, she mustn't falter, not this time, he continues, his voice growing more menacing with every word, "this was your plan all along, you just wanted to play the victim – "

The comment puzzles her, he's not making any sense, but she's thrown off guard for a moment too soon, her grip loosens on the door and he pushes it open with more force this time, sending her stumbling backwards, off balance, and he's over the threshold before she can stop him.

She's in her living room in a flash, the room seems out of focus, he's yelling at her but she can't hear what he's saying, nothing seems real, it's disjointed, like the a puzzle with pieces jumbled up in the wrong place.

His hand's on her shoulder and it makes her feel sick, she doesn't turn - can't face him. Instead she shrugs away his grip, tripping as she scrambles through the apartment, not certain where exactly her feet are taking her, but following her instinct nonetheless.

His heavy footfall echoing threateningly in her ears as he trails her. But Donna urges forward, away from him, never looking back, too frightened she'll lose control.

She finds herself in her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, but the absence of a key in the lock renders the defense useless. Thomas is through the door in a matter of seconds, Donna backs away as he approaches, it feels hauntingly similar to that time in his office, and the pale, bright toned walls of her bedroom seem to darken and blur into a deep mahogany as he comes closer.

Nothing feels real.

Except, maybe, the all-consuming fear.

"Look what you've done!" he bellows, and he's not making any sense, yet again, his words don't correlate.

"Thomas, please –" she stutters, his lack of coherence unnerving her further.

He's so close now, his hands reach out, grabbing her elbows, fingers digging in, tight.

"It's time for you to pick a side! Me or him!" he raises his voice another tone, and once again the lingering sense of déjà vu strikes her in the gut.

 _Haven't they been through this before?_

His grip tightens when she doesn't answer immediately, shaking her with force, it makes her head spin, nausea brewing in her stomach. The shaking stops, and he pulls her closer to him, dragging her up onto the tips of her toes to match his height.

Pain shoots up her arms as she strains to break free, but it's to no avail.

"You're nothing," he breathes in her ear, making her skin creep, prickled by goosebumps, and she's not surprised by his next words, sure of what's to follow "but a slut."

He throws her backwards with such strength that she half expects to go crashing through the wall.

Instead, she hits the ground, landing on her back, finding herself gazing up at an array of color, her own clothes staring down at her.

She wants to move, but she can't find the willpower. Wondering why the hell she feels so weak, so out of it, why hasn't the adrenaline kicked in? Why can't she find it in herself to fight back? She puts the blame on the questionable quantity wine she'd consumed earlier, she'd had nothing to line her stomach, rookie mistake.

Her vision's loosing focus and fast, a whimper escapes her throat as his shadow looms over her, an involuntary sound that makes her cringe at her own fear. The sight of his silhouette standing over her is too much to bear, and she relents to the lightheadedness, closing her eyes, darkness surrounding her now.

All she can hear is the constant mantra of her name being called, it bounces around in her head, unnerving her to no end, she thinks she can feel his touch on her face and wrist, and she flinches although the sensation feels distant and she's not entirely sure it's even there. She's far too consumed by the sound of her name, repeated on an endless loop, it drives her insane.

"Stop…Thom-as" she hears herself mumble, but the calling only grows louder, her head pounds harder, "p-please… stop!" she sobs.

There's a grip on her shoulder now, and she's certain it's there this time, sending her panic into over-drive-

"Stop!" she screeches and her eyes fly open, the room seems clearer now, she's lying with her head resting against the shelving of her closet, but that's not how she remembers falling.

The hold on her shoulder intensifies and she jolts forward with another yell, scrambling to her feet with much difficulty, fleeing the walk-in closet without a glance behind her.

Her bedroom is pitch black, the curtains pulled, lights out. Disorientated, she trips on something as she frantically stumbles around in the dark, falling forwards onto her knees and clutching at the end of her bed for support.

She hears a voice, calling again and her chest constricts, trying to pull herself up but failing as her legs shake.

Before she has the chance to resist, strong arms envelope her, trapping her, and all hope drains from her body.

She can't escape.

She squirms and struggles with the little energy she can muster, but the hold doesn't relent. Donna feels herself being lifted from the ground her fear peaking, as she's laid down on her bed, she squeezes her eyes closed again, lashing out blindly, throwing futile punches, but it's no use as she notices hands cuffing her wrists and pining her to the bed.

"No!" she shrieks.

"Shhh.." is all she hears in response.

But she continues to scream, terror taking hold as she cries, hopeless, trapped.

"Get off!" She sobs, kicking her legs out but finding it useless.

"Donna, relax, you're okay."

Wait.

She knows that voice.

Her body goes limp, all resistance subsiding, still panting heavily as she opens her eyes, slowly, and her heart skips a beat when she recognizes the soft brown orbs staring back at her, glassy and overflowing with concern.

"Harvey?" she chokes.

"I'm here." He assures her, and it's all that it takes to calm her down.

Donna feels his grip on her wrists loosen, trusting her lucidity, allowing her to sit up slightly, as relieved as she is to see Harvey, the confusion of what just happened consumes her mind, and she glances around the room frantically, certain Thomas is still lurking in the shadows.

"What-? How.." she looks from Harvey's frown, to the closet, to the door, she points into the darkness, "I – Thomas was-"

"Shush," Harvey soothes, rubbing her back, "you passed o- fell asleep and had a nightmare-"

"No," she shakes her head, pulling her knees up to her stomach, "He was here, at the door – I'm sure…"

But she's not sure.

It makes sense that it was all a dream, the déjà vu. The disjointed, absent feeling. But still, it had felt so real, it rocks her to the very core,

"I thought he was…" she croaks.

"No, you're okay, you're safe." He replies, a sad but kind smile gracing his creased face.

"How.. why are you here?" she asks, comforted by his presence but puzzled by it nonetheless.

"I tried calling the landline but you didn't pick up, I wanted to check in, see if you were doing ok or needed anything." He explains, "when you didn't pick up after a couple of tries I got worried, so I came over – I did knock but you didn't answer so I let myself in, I just wanted to know you were okay."

"I don't know – I'm not sure what –" She can't shake the feeling that it was real, the terror of what she had just experienced, lucid or not, it was as though she could still sense Thomas' presence in the apartment, haunting her as her eyes continue to scan the room carefully.

Harvey notices her anxiety, following her gaze as it shoots from corner to corner, "Hey," he places his thumb under her chin, coaxing her to look at him, the look of distress and horror hiding behind her eyes, he wonders what she sees, in her mind's eye, wishing he could understand how she's feeling, "there's no one here but you and me, I promise."

She looks skeptical, but nods anyway, a few silent tears straying down her cheeks without permission.

Her hazel-green eyes stare back at his, and she considers throwing her arms around him, letting it all out.

And she's not just talking about Thomas – no – she longs to open the gates, release all she's kept pent up for the past thirteen years. They'd gotten half way there last night, but had retreated quickly with the dawning of the daunting light of day. She doesn't want to hide anymore, but she needs to know first.

She needs to know how.

"What have you got there?" he breaks the trance, motioning at her hand, which is still balled tightly in a fist.

"Oh," she frowns, she hadn't noticed she'd been holding something all this time, scrunched up in her hand. She softens her grip, letting the crumbled picture fall onto the bed, in the space between them, "I was looking through some old photos, before I…"

He smiles at the memory, taking the picture into his hands, his eyes sweeping over each face with a lighthearted sigh, they had been so happy that evening, everything seemed to be falling into place.

An idea strikes him, and he rises from the his perch on the bed, heading back in the direction of the closet.

Her body stiffens with panic despite herself, worried he might leave, terrified to be alone, but also scared to be alone – with him.

"Where are you going?" she stammers, and he detects the worry in her tone, his lips curling into a reassuring smile.

"I'm not leaving," he replies, and her muscles relax, "I'm just going to grab the rest of these pictures, I want to see more."

He disappears for a few seconds, emerging from the small room with the old shoe box in tow, and sits back down facing her at the edge of the bed, "I'd suggest we open a bottle of wine… but I think that's a bad idea, at least until you get something to eat." His eyes study her features, hollowed by the last few days, sans appetite.

She nods, but doesn't suggest food, the very thought churning her stomach. Instead, she reaches for the old box, emptying it of its contents and taking Harvey through the array of her most precious memories, coincidentally, most of them feature him.

Almost an hour passes, as they reminisce, each picture having a story attached, the pair often disagreeing on the other's retelling of events. It isn't long before her anxiety has evaporated, replaced by a feeling warmth, a sense of security. All thoughts of Thomas sent packing to the back of her mind. It feels good to relax, with Harvey in particular.

Harvey's attention returns to the first picture, the one which paints the pair of them, much younger, in the D.A's office. His eyes light up at the sight, and much like Donna, he hasn't failed to notice that his gaze is permanently fixed on her. It seems to be a recurring theme in this collection of photos.

The words fall from his mouth before he can rethink, "I guess this proves that I've only ever had eyes for you."

Her lips part in surprise, blinking quickly at the sentiment, not sure how to respond.

"Donna," he begins, placing a hand over hers, "I'm sorry about the way we left things this morning… I just didn't know what to say... it's hard-"

Donna sighs, knowing she's heard some form of this speech before, sick of the same excuses, it's not enough for him to stay silent anymore, she can't read his mind this time.

She needs to hear it from him, she has to be sure, "Well the best things in life don't come easy." She mumbles, standing and brushing past him heading for the bedroom door, slowly, wondering if he'll follow.

"Donna, please," he whines, standing after her, "give me a break, I'm trying my best here –"

"No." she cuts him off, turning back around to face him, "You're taking the easy way out, only telling me half the story, leaving me guessing –"

"I told you, I want you!" he raises his voice a tone, exasperated.

"It's not enough Harvey, you know it's not," she shakes her head, letting her eyes cast to the floor, her voice is barely above a whisper when she continues, "I need to know… for sure… I can't get hurt again, I can't take it."

His heart shatters, guilt blooming in his chest and pumping through his veins. She's been hurt so many times, and the idea that he might have added to that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He has to put his own fear aside, for her, for them.

He approaches her slowly, as though he were approaching a fawn, stopping barely an inch away. But she still doesn't meet his eyes.

"Look at me," he breathes, but she doesn't move, so he tries again, more firmly this time, "Look at me Donna, I love you."

She lifts her gaze with great effort, and her lips part as one small, breathy word, escapes her.

 _"How?"_

His lips collide with hers without a moment's hesitation, pushing her back until she's resting against the wall, his touch is gentle, contrasting with the needy passion of his lips. Leaning down slightly to slant his mouth over hers in a way that makes her knees weak, sending her hands flying to his biceps, holding on for dear life. She opens her mouth to him, stretching her neck up to meet his movements, thinking how much easier this had been in heels.

He groans as one hand travels to the back of his head, scrapping at the short hairs on the nape of his neck, urging him closer, willing him not to stop. And he's all too happy to oblige.

His fingertips slip down her spine, sending sparks flying through every nerve ending in her body, set alight by a different brand of passion, one she had missed terribly. She feels his hands undoing her robe, their mouths part and he's discarding of the sheer material that left nothing to the imagination anyway.

"I love you too." She gasps, breath coming in pants her chest fluttering in anticipation.

"Love you," he breathes against, her skin, lips kissing the pulse point of her neck, eliciting a whine of pleasure.

"Say it again." She commands, voice laced with lust, her head resting back on the wall, and the authoritative tone of voice sending the blood rushing to his dick.

"I love you," he places a kiss on her shoulder, "I love you," another on her neck, sucking, "I love you," his mouth is on hers again, in a soft kiss, nose brushing hers, nibbling gently on her bottom lip, " _I love you_." He speaks against her.

She smiles, cupping his face and connecting their lips once again, moaning when his hands being to gather the material of her silk slip, bunching the hem up as far as the curve of her ass.

His fingertips brush the inside of her thighs, making her hiss, feeling a sudden rush of warmth to her center, a familiar tingling taking hold. His hand ghosts past her core over the thin satin of her panties, he feels himself harden at the dampness of the material, showing him just how much he wants her.

He slips his hand inside the satin, thumb finding her clit with ease and beginning a slow circular motion. Donna cries out, back arching towards the touch as he explores her, continuing to leave a trail of kisses along her neck.

"Harvey, wait." She gasps, gripping his shoulder in an effort to stay on her feet.

He stills his ministrations immediately, eyes meeting hers in a caring gaze, "Are you ok?"

"Yes." She shakes her head with a lazy smile, placing a chaste kiss along his jawline, "I just don't want to wait anymore, I need you. Now."

He springs into action without a second thought, his hands reaching under her ass and pulling her up as her legs wrap around his waist, pressing their centers together as he carries her towards the bed, sitting her down gently. Her fingers fumble as she races to unbutton his shirt, he intervenes half way, pulling the material over his head as she focuses her attention on his belt, unbuckling and unzipping with ease, letting his pants gather around his ankles. Donna's hand slips into his boxers, holding his length as he groans, pumping slowly, readying him the way he had done for her.

He takes her arm, pulling away her touch, afraid he won't last long if she keeps that up, instead he peels the silk nightie from her skin, leaving her in nothing but her drenched underwear. His eyes glow, taking in the beautiful curves of her body, tracing over the constellations of freckles, exactly how he remembered them.

She blushes at the look on his face, mouth slightly agape, she giggles, "Are you just going to stand there or are you going to f-"

He cuts her off with a passionate kiss, laying her back, head resting against the pillows, her underwear vanishes is an flash, her feet helping to push down the waistband of his boxers as he kisses her slowly, with purpose, but still slow.

Harvey pulls back slightly, her eyes flutter open, their gaze meeting as he parts her, pushing inside slowly, her head pushes back into the cushions with a strangled groan, holding her breath as he fills her. He stays still, struggling for air himself, winded at how good she feels, surrounding him, her walls clasping him, urging him along.He lets her adjust, bowing his head to her chest, and capturing the peak of her breast between his lips, feeling it swell under the ministrations of his tongue, kisses his way along the valley of her breasts, giving the other nipple equal attention, as she whines, her back curving up to meet his touch.

"Harvey," she exhales, not sure how much longer she's going to last, "please, move." She begs.

She doesn't have to tell him twice, he begins stroking in and out, slow but purposeful, grinding against her spot in between every thrust, as she curses and moans his name. Her hands reach around to his bare back, nails scrapping their way along his shoulder blades and right down to his ass, forcing him to move even deeper.

It's not like the other time.

When they were young and desperate for each other's touch, they had moved so quickly through that night that they hadn't left enough time to savor the feeling of one another. Although amazing, their sex had been frantic, needy.

This was different. Slow, steady, yet sending them both to a state of euphoria, this sensation of a complete loss of control. Focusing on nothing other than the needs of the other, rather than their own desires. This was it, and suddenly it became clear why some may call this love making.

She's so lost in him, consumed by his every move, his every feature, that her climax sneaks up on her, and she's caught off guard when she finds herself tumbling over the edge with a cry of ecstasy, clenching him as he picks up the speed, intensifying her orgasm as he falls over the edge after her, gasping when he releases inside her.

They stay connected for a few fleeting moments, eyes locked together, breathing heavily, smiling bashfully at each other, a small laugh of pure bliss bubbles up in her chest, the happy sound unlike anything he's ever heard from her, it makes his heart soar.

He rolls off her, both of them slipping beneath the cozy duvet, "did that answer your question?" he chuckles, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hmm," she muses, a smirk playing on her lips, "I'm not certain, maybe we should try a couple more times, just to be sure."

"Fine by me." He grins.

"I love you." She whispers, linking her hand in his, fingers intertwining.

"And in case you didn't hear me back there, I love you too." He jests, earning another giggle from the red head.

They stay quiet for a little while, just caressing one another's skin, Harvey's finger tips drawing patterns on her back as she lies on her stomach, one hand reaching out to brush his lips with her thumb.

"Are you okay?" he prompts quietly, not wanting to upset her again, but knowing he can't ignore the circumstances that led them here.

"I wasn't," she admits, truthfully, "it's been a tough week, but if that's what it took to get us here, then it was all worth it," she takes a deep breath, her eyes closing momentarily, before opening slowly again, "but as long as I have you, I'm okay – more than okay."

"You have me." He assures her.

"Always?" she breathes, although she's certain she knows the answer.

"Always."

XXX

The next day, she feels brand new. Eating her fill at breakfast, swanning about the apartment all day in his shirt. They spend the whole day locked up, ignoring the sunshine outside, content in each other's company, 'christening' almost every room in the house. They let the world disappear, learning what it means to be in love again, barely spending more than a few moments away from each other's touch.

They prepare for their double date with Mike and Rachel together, Ray dropping a fresh suit off at her apartment. He waits in the living room, admiring the childhood pictures of Donna and her red-haired sisters, while she gets ready in the bedroom.

She clears her throat, earning his attention, and his mouth almost hits the floor when he sees her.

Her hair is curled, ringlets cascading down her shoulders, like fiery red flames that bounce and dance as she moves. But her dress… he recognizes it instantly.

Emerald green, satin, glowing in the dim light of the room, small, thin straps that run over her shoulders, and down her bare back meeting stopping at her waist, the freckle dusted skin of her back exposed in the gown.

The skirt is reminiscent of a fifties style dress, flowing light skirt, the hem just grazing her knee, her right leg peeking out as a result of the painfully high slit.

He bought her thus dress, he remembers the day so clearly, how he'd dreamt of her wearing it, fantasized about pulling it from her skin.

"You look…" he's speechless, not sure that words can do justice to what he's seeing.

"Go on." She teases, stepping closer to him, fixing his tie in place possessively.

"Beautiful, gorgeous, angelic, stunning-"

"Say anymore and you're going to have to deflate my ego." She chuckles, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"You know," she whispers, looking up at him through her long, full lashes, "I'd been saving this dress, I hadn't worn it since you bought it for me, I wasn't sure what for…" she trails off suddenly feeling shy, "But then I realized, that I was saving it for you."

He's grinning, blinking away tears that rise in his eyes, when she leans closer.

"No one else deserves to see me in this dress," she whispers in his ear, breathlessly, "and no one else will have the honor of taking it off me." She finishes, letting her lips brush his ear as she leans back, and he has to stop himself from ripping it off her there and then.

"I hope to God this dinner doesn't last all damn night." He sighs, feeling her taking his hand.

"Patience Mr. Specter," she smiles, tugging him along as they head for the door, "we've got a whole lifetime for that."

 **Xxx**

 **Thank you to everyone who supported this story!! I didn't expect a response like this at all! And I'm so so so grateful.**

 **As I said at the start, this is the last chapter, but I have a new idea in works that I'll hopefully get working on sometime soon!! In the meantime I'm planing on publishing a few of my old one shots from tumblr that I never posted here! So I'll get round to that soon!**

 **Thanks once again, and please let me know your overall thoughts on this now that it's finished! Xxx**


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